


Can You Play Me A Memory?

by itallstartedwithharry



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon forced kiss, Canonical Character Death, Drug Use, Homophobic Language, M/M, Nausea, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itallstartedwithharry/pseuds/itallstartedwithharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where everybody has vivid memories of their past lives, Kurt is the only one who doesn't remember anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was prompted by defyinggravityinthedepthsofoz on tumblr and is a current work in progress. Just so people know the character death tagged is Kurt's mother.

How exactly do you go about explaining your world to someone entirely unaware of how it functions?

How do you explain a science so unique and complicated that it’s composed of more theory than fact?

You start off with the basics.

First off, everyone has a soul. Yes, everyone. You, your next door neighbor, the leader of your country, the homeless man down the street, the prison inmate on the news. It is not measurable by weight nor is it visible with imaging. But it can grow, change, develop, regress, and renew itself – all while maintaining innate and unique qualities. Such a complicated state of being transcends the existence of a human; of a short lifespan that can be cut short in the blink of an eye. No, the universe we know of offers such infinite possibilities that the soul continues beyond the body to live again.

What is the soul made of? No one knows, but what is clear is that the rules of time do not determine its trajectory. There is no specified period or rule that we know of to dictate when a soul once again lives in a fragile human vessel, as that realm is not known or measurable to humans. But the mystery of the soul’s journey is not entirely beyond our reach; within every soul there remain ties to every single one of its previous lives. Through a process neither psychology nor science has come close to understanding, humans recall bits and pieces of these lives through Memories. As vivid as the sights, sounds, smells, and experiences of one’s current life, Memories allow glimpses into the soul’s previous being.

One of the most treasured aspects of the soul’s link to its past is the existence of soul mates. A connection occurs between soul mates if they meet in any given life, and can happen in a variety of ways depending on the nature of the bond. Most often, a moment of emotional or physical intimacy allows a recognizable connection. Sometimes this is in the form of a simultaneous Memory, other times it is described as a rush of energy or emotion that triggers a unique sense of familiarity. Every soul is unique, and therefore every connection is unique, with the number and types of soul mates varying indefinitely from person to person.

Now this world might seem exciting and magical and brilliant, but that’s probably because you’re familiar with the stories, the fairy tales; the exceptions to the rules.

The girl who had a Memory of wearing a crown ended up marrying a prince in her current life.

The happily married soul mates that discovered they were terrible enemies in a past life.

Children’s stories in which souls leave a physical imprint on the human body, leaving a mark guiding one to their soul mate.

A woman with a past life seemingly identical to this one makes a decision which saves her soul mate from the fatal mistake he made in the past.

A man driven mad by his love for his soul mate in a past life, who begins kidnapping lookalikes to try and find the right one.

The two girls that meet in the same way in every single lifetime and fall in love all over again.

These are only a small sampling of the news-worthy stories, the connections that make people talk and gossip and theorize. Many times past lives are just as simple and complicated as any ordinary life. What make them special are the souls connected to your own, bonds so powerful they transcend lifetimes. Love, hate, companionship, trust, lust, and friendship alike are more intense when combined with a soul connection.

Having these Memories is something that connects the entire world; a common thread of the human experience. In media, politics, school, work, society; everyone has their past lives as the core part of their being.

So what happens if they aren’t there?

What are you…without proof of your soul?


	2. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Hummel opened the door to her son’s bedroom, where the 5-year old was surrounded by a ring of Disney characters and action figures, with the two in his hands jabbering at each other in a language seemingly of his own design. Upon seeing her, Kurt gently placed his characters down and happily padded over to his bed, dressed in soft sea-green footie pajamas.

“Story time!”

Every night without fail, Kurt refused to go to sleep without a bedtime story. Sometimes it was one from his book of soul mate tales. His favorite was the story of a mermaid who had Memories of life on land, which she kept a secret from her disapproving family. But when she saves a human from a shipwreck and connects with him, she seeks a bargain with a sea witch to join her soul mate.

Other times he wanted to hear a story from one of her past lives, when she would tell him a string of Memories that seemed to awe him just as much as any magical tale.

_“Mama, tell me the one when you were a village lady and daddy was a nobleman.”_

_“Mama, tell me the one where daddy was a race car driver.”_

“Of course, my angel. Which one would you like today?”

“Mama, how about the one when you were a cheerleader and daddy played football?”

“Sweetheart, that’s this life silly!” She tickled Kurt’s stomach, laughing as he shrieked and tried to burrow under his comforter. Reaching underneath, she pulled him back up to prop him up against the headboard next to her, opening the book to  _Cinderella_. He snuggled against her as she read through the story, rhythmically running her fingers through his soft chestnut hair so like her own. She closed the book when they finished, glancing at Kurt to see that his eyes were halfway shut with sleep.

“Come on now, my angel. It’s time for bed.”

“Awww!” Kurt’s bright blue eyes slowly opened, protesting his tiredness. “I like that story Mama. When am I gonna remember? What are my past lives?”

Elizabeth hummed to herself, encouraging Kurt to lie down under the covers. “Oh, sweetheart. Well everyone starts remembering at different points, but usually it starts around puberty.”

“Peuberte?”

She chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of Kurt’s head. “It’s when you start to grow more, baby. You get taller, your voice may change, or maybe not.” She booped his nose, smiling as Kurt giggled and covered his face. “And most people start remembering their past lives. They’re like dreams, only clearer and you remember them even when you’re awake. Some lives are more memorable than others, and most of them have the people that are most important to you.”

“Soul mate!”

Elizabeth stood up, pulling up the covers to tuck in her son. “That’s right angel, your soul mate. It could be a boy or a girl, but it’s someone connected to you in a way that’s more special than anyone else, in the way that’s just right for you.”

“And then you’re together forever…” Kurt’s eyes began to flutter shut once more, though his smile remained. “Mama, is daddy your soul mate?”

“Yes, sweetie, he is.”

“Am I in your-” Kurt yawned adorably, curling up with his favorite stuffed bear that had been sitting in his lap for the duration of the story. “- past lives?”

Elizabeth felt the Memory inside her practically glow with happiness. The day she gave birth to Kurt she had a Memory that was simultaneously the vaguest and the most powerful she had ever had, centered around her love for her children, past and present. “Yes honey, you are in many of my past lives.”

“mmmkay. Goodnight, Mama.”

Elizabeth turned off the light and tiptoed out of the room, but not before hearing a whisper so quiet it blurred into his sleep-heavy breathing.

“Goodnight, soul mate.”

Kurt was wrapped around his bear and breathing evenly, not moving a muscle as Elizabeth paused to smile to herself. Her soul connection with Kurt had shown him as a shining star in her past lives. Sometimes shadowed by grief and other times glowing strong and independent. But one of her favorite Memories was of a union; surroundings of yellows and creams with an accent of red, the joyful sound of voices singing in harmony, a floating sensation of pride, sadness and happy tears. And most specifically, the bright light that was her Kurt connected to another light with a love as strong and powerful as her son’s. They were connected by an infinite number of golden threads, pulsing with intensity until it seemed that the two individual lights became one. And although she could sense their differences, allowing their souls to mesh together in a unique way, there was an underlying similarity that she swore was from another man. It was a Memory she kept to herself, even from Burt; Kurt would approach his own sexuality and identity at his own pace. Above all else, Elizabeth knew that Kurt’s past, present, and future lives would be very special, and she would be there to guide, support, and love him through as many as she could.

*

But who could have guessed that in this life, she would leave him too early.

Almost two years later, when Kurt awoke to the horrific sound of his dad sobbing, everything he thought he knew about soul mates was forever altered.

And that night, no one came in to read him a bedtime story.

Or the next night.

Or the next.

After a while, Kurt learned to go to sleep without one. But not without whispering goodnight to his soul mate into the terrycloth tummy of his bear, with a newly added “be safe.”

*

The funeral was on a bright and sunny day; Elizabeth’s favorite type of day. Kurt was uncomfortable in the stiff suit, surrounded by too many people, too many tears, and too many people patting his arm and giving him hugs. His dad’s face didn’t look right, and he was holding Kurt’s hand so hard he couldn’t feel it after a while.  Kurt didn’t feel right looking at him; he didn’t like seeing his father upset, because daddies and mommies weren’t supposed to get upset. He didn’t understand.

The ceremony was a blur, until Burt led Kurt away from the gravesite and they were suddenly standing silently in the entry hallway of their house. They were greeted them only by a cold, empty space screaming with the imprint of Elizabeth.

Burt leaned against the door, squeezing his eyes shut as a barrage of Memories and memories alike threatened to overwhelm him.

“Hey Bud, are you-uh- are you alright getting yourself into bed?” Like before, his dad’s voice was too high and too quiet. Nothing was the way it should be.

Kurt nodded, and Burt squeezed his hand before walking too quickly to his bedroom, the door echoing through the empty house. Suddenly feeling more scared and alone than he had all day, Kurt hurried into the kitchen and opened the cabinet where mommy kept the fruit snacks and crackers. He brought his small stash into his room, laying them out on the table so he could change into his pajamas before eating. After his makeshift dinner, Kurt dutifully brushed his teeth, pausing in the hallway upon hearing strange noises from his parents’ room. He wondered if he should go in, like Mom and Dad always did when he was upset, or if he should leave him alone because grown-ups don’t really cry. Not unless something really bad happened, like his Mom becoming an angel. He was too small, he thought, too small to help Daddy from being sad, so he would get himself all ready for bed.

His bedtime routine now included “goodnight angel Mommy”.

*

“Daddy?” Kurt’s voice was quiet and soft, seeming to break the long silence since they buried his mother the week before. “Can I ask a question?”

Burt glanced up from the paper he was pretending to read, trying to subtly wipe his red eyes. “Sure, kiddo.” He felt unbelievably guilty, seeing how small and alone his son looked standing in the middle of their living room, surrounded by reminders of his mother. He reached down, picking up Kurt and setting him on his lap. “You can ask whatever you want.”

“I thought that…” Kurt sniffed, “when you were with your soul mate, you would be together…forever. And mama said that you were her…soul mate. But now she’s gone.” His lower lip started wobbling, betraying how upset he really was. “Does it mean you’re not soul mates anymore?”

Burt sat back, lifting up his cap and wiping a hand over his forehead, trying to hide how much pain the question caused him. “Here’s the thing, Kurt. Your books didn’t tell you everything about soul mates.” Kurt looked taken aback, and Burt quickly continued so he wouldn’t think the worst. “When you start remembering your past lives, you’ll figure this out, but you don’t remember every day of every lifetime – you’d go crazy!” He tried to smile, but judging from Kurt’s lack of response, it was more likely a grimace. “Instead you have Memories, very clear Memories, from a bunch of your lifetimes that you can separate in your mind. For most people, there’s someone in particular that stands out in these lives. Sometimes it’s because of love, sometimes friendship, and other times it’s something else. They’re not always there, and it’s not always clear who they are in the life you’re in right now. And it’s possible to not meet your soul mate, or to find happiness with someone else who also has a strong connection with you in this or in past lives.” Burt took a deep breath, ruffling Kurt’s hair a bit to calm himself. A lack of protest on Kurt’s part showed how invested he was in understanding how his mother could be gone. “Your mom – I…Kurt, I miss her so much, and I’ll always miss her. She’ll always be my soul mate. This is how long we had together in this life Kurt, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.” Burt glanced up at the ceiling longer than he had to, sniffing a couple times before clearing his throat and returning his attention to his son. “Does that make sense buddy?”

There was a significant pause before Kurt nodded and hopped off of Burt’s lap. “Yeah, I think so.”

Burt watched Kurt pad back to his room before putting his head in his hands with a sigh. Lost in thought, it was over an hour before he went to tuck Kurt into bed, knocking lightly on the door before poking his head in. Kurt was sitting cross-legged on his bed in his favorite light blue pajamas, his tongue sticking out as he worked furiously in a coloring book with a black crayon.

“Time for bed, bud.” Burt couldn’t help but chuckle at Kurt’s little exasperated sigh as he climbed off his bed, neatly arranging his crayons in a row on his table before placing his coloring book on the end. Burt glanced at the open page, frowning when he saw the character (some princess or another) colored completely with black with blue circles on her face. “Um…so what were you drawing buddy?”

“I drew Cinderella sad.” Kurt explained matter-of-factly. “I drew her if her soul mate was gone and she missed her prince.”

“Why don’t you draw something happy tomorrow.” Burt tucked the covers in around Kurt, ignoring the pain in his heart.

Kurt shrugged sleepily, hugging his teddy bear closer. “I’d be sad if my prince went away…I hope we get to be together forever.”

Burt froze; Elizabeth had been sure since the day Kurt was born that he would be unique; “just you wait, our boy will continue to surprise us for the rest of our lives, and we’ll be there for him every step of the way,” she would always tell him with a smile.  _(But you won’t be here; I have to go at it alone)_

Burt glanced at Kurt’s easel, looking at the most recent additions to Kurt’s collection of crayon creations. Several showcased a stick figure with blue eyes and a brown swirl for hair (Kurt) next to a stick figure wearing a yellow object that appeared to be a crown. Smiling, he kissed Kurt’s hair, making sure to shut the door quietly before heading to his room to plan. Tomorrow would be the day to begin moving forward with his life. He had to wake up; he had to make sure he was living in the present and being the parent Kurt deserved.

It wouldn’t be easy…when a soul mate dies after the connection is made, it is said the pain is beyond any other. The ache is a physical reminder of a tether snapped in two. Most people in his situation were encouraged to join support groups in which members tell stories of past lives with their soul mate, and comfort each other with ways to move on in this life. Flipping the newspaper back open to the ads section, he copied down a time and a place.

*

Kurt smiled as he kissed the nose of his stuffed bear; this was the first time his daddy had seemed maybe a little happier. Maybe things would get better.

“Goodnight, angel mommy. Goodnight, soul mate. Be safe.”

*

In that instant, several towns over, a tiny curly-haired boy in red pajama bottoms and an iron man T-shirt opened his eyes and shot up in bed, grasping his stuffed bunny close in shock from his first Memory.


	3. Chapter 2

Slowly, through grieving and the passage of time, the Hummels became used to a family of two. Burt’s group therapy helped him recover mentally and emotionally from the death of his soul mate, and Kurt faced the ups and downs of elementary school like any other boy.

Except, as Kurt grew older it seemed he felt less and less like the other boys in his grade.  Just several months after his mother’s death, Kurt had already quit ballet, uncomfortable with the teasing and odd looks from other dancers and parents when he wore the tutu his mother had made for him. Not to mention that when he finally went to his dad and quietly asked if he could stop going, the not-so-hidden relief on his father’s face said it all. It was easier to go with what people expected; what was normal. A year or two later, he stopped going to piano lessons, unable to play without the memory of his mother’s hands guiding his own on the keys as he tried to play along with her.

But even without the lessons, Kurt’s love of music was his center. His action figures often serenaded each other, he asked for DVDs of musicals every Christmas, and he usually sang as he worked on his coloring book. It was something he desperately wanted to share with his father, but musical theater wasn’t Burt’s forte. Their differences made for some rough patches; Burt trying to understand and navigate life as a single working parent while Kurt looked to fill the hole his mother left in his life. Their tastes seemed to deviate in everything, and they slowly began spending less and less time together. It wasn’t until one night, after another quiet Friday night dinner while Burt was watching the playoff game when everything clicked into place. Burt was grabbing a second beer from the kitchen (with the commercials muted, because that damn Toyota ad was on for the umpteenth time) when he heard it. He paused in front of the door leading down into the basement.

_“Somewhere, over the rainbow. Way up high.”_

Kurt was down in his room, as per their usual routine after some early (and awkward) attempts at bonding had led to Kurt just doing his own thing in his room.  Burt knew that Kurt was having mixed feelings about his last year in elementary school, and he knew he hadn’t always been the best father.  _Elizabeth was always so much better at knowing what he needed, what everyone needed_. He had seen during Kurt’s tea parties that he just wasn’t doing it right, the way that she always knew how. He had felt horribly relieved when Kurt stopped ballet; because he was worried about people’s whispers, the gossip he had begun to hear about his son. He had wanted to fight for Kurt to continue piano, but in truth the memory of Elizabeth was ingrained so deeply in piano music that it was too painful to face.

_“Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me.”_

As Kurt continued, Burt realized that his was the only voice with the music accompaniment. And as his volume grew, Burt felt the moment augmented with the presence of a new Memory, an event that hadn’t occurred in quite some time. He closed his eyes, seeing bright light, feeling goose bumps as a powerful voice rang through an auditorium, the roar of applause, the rush of pride, the warmth of belonging, and tears not of sadness for once, but of joy. As the Memory faded into his subconscious, Kurt’s song took on a whole new meaning. Burt had tried to join Kurt for tea and dance routines with discomfort, his attempts to introduce Kurt to sports hadn’t gone well for either of them, but this was different. Music was Kurt’s gift, and it was a gift Burt suspected went well beyond this life.

_“If happy little bluebirds fly…beyond the rainbow,”_

If Burt hadn’t been listening carefully, he may have missed the little sniff that Kurt always made when he was trying not to cry as he took a slight pause before finishing the song.

_“Why, oh why can’t I?”_

Burt wasn’t surprised to feel his face wet with tears, and he quickly returned to the living room as Kurt’s high voice faded on the last note, shutting off the game and wiping his face. An eleven year-old kid shouldn’t be able to put that kind of pain into their voice; they shouldn’t have the experience to draw from. From here on out, Burt was determined do his part to be the best parent he could be – a better parent – and to remind his son that his hopes, dreams, and life mattered more than anything else.

He hoped that when Kurt started having his Memories, which he’d been dreaming of since he was a kid, it would bring more happiness into his life. Not that you needed the past to love your present, in fact relying on it was considered unhealthy. But the acknowledgment; the peace in knowing your existence extended beyond any one difficult moment could lift you up from depression and discouragement. It certainly had aided Burt since the death of his wife.

That weekend, Burt spent hours searching the internet for current theater shows in Columbus until he came upon tickets to a touring production of Wicked. And after doing even more research to make sure that was the show he thought he remembered Kurt talking about (something about gravity, right?), he bought them as a surprise.

That Friday night, Burt suggested they watch a movie instead of going their separate ways. Nodding in agreement, Kurt grabbed one of the Star Wars movies they both didn’t mind and put it in. Partway through the movie Burt cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So-ah, you got any plans for next weekend, bud?”

Kurt shrugged again, his attention not leaving the screen. “I have a math quiz next week.”

Burt tried again; “How would you like to go to Columbus?”

That caught his attention, Kurt’s shoulders perking up at the idea of leaving Lima. “Sure dad! Can we go to the mall there?”

“Sure thing, bud. But, um actually I also thought we could go see a show. I got us tickets to that Wicked show you like.” At Kurt’s stunned silence he lifted his cap and rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. “I thought it was. Wasn’t that the one with the gravity song?”

“The GRAVITY song?!” Kurt looked outraged. “Dad, dad, that’s one of my favorite songs! It’s called Defying Gravity! Do you want to hear it? The show is so good! It’s about the Wicked Witch of the West, but like before she was mean. And some people think she’s evil in all of her lives but then really it turns out she was good and everyone else thinks she’s evil. And there’s this moment when she has a soul connection with Fiyero-” Kurt paused, slightly out of breath from his excitement. Burt couldn’t contain his smile; this was his son, not the sad boy singing alone, but the one full of life and creativity.

He paused the movie, sitting back in his armchair. “That sounds great kiddo! We’ll have to get a poster or t-shirt or something while we’re there. But how about for now you sing me one of those songs you mentioned?”

And as Kurt delightedly ran downstairs to “prepare his outfit”, Burt was proud of his single parenting skills for the first time. And from that night on, another Hummel Friday night tradition emerged. After dinner, Burt would gladly sit in the living room among an imaginary audience to hear Kurt belt out his latest musical obsession. They still had their moments of tension and misunderstanding, and their interests would occasionally clash, but Kurt had never felt more like himself.

*

With his styled hair, carefully chosen outfits, and love of clothes and musicals, Kurt often found himself more comfortable as a loner, unable to truly fit in with any of the cliques the other kids desperately jumped between.  His interest in music, art, and fashion remained his sanctuary in the face of sadness, stress, and rejection. Over his elementary days he only had a few acquaintances; a quiet girl named Tina who hated the clothes her parents sent her to school in, a strange, oddly cynical boy named Billy who had moved away the previous year, and Marie, who he never spoke to but sometimes joined on the swing set.

Now in middle school, Tina was the only one he still spoke to; the quiet, stuttering girl usually shared a lunch table with him. Although he was happy to have someone that talked to him, he couldn’t help wanting a little more.

It wasn’t until his seventh grade history teacher assigned a pair project on an aspect of social culture of their choice that he was truly introduced to Rachel Berry. Group projects were Kurt’s least favorite assignment, as he was often left to choose between the few unfortunate students without a friend in the class (or rather, they decided among themselves who was stuck with him). Sighing as he brushed imaginary lint off his sleeve, Kurt turned to see the slim pickings available to him and was met with the sight of a girl in a plaid skirt and red sweater with a black peter pan collar marching over to his desk.

“So I was thinking we would do our project on the development and evolution of musical theater. Do you want to work on it after school at my house?”  She set down her backpack and smoothed her headband, looking at Kurt expectantly.

Completely thrown off, Kurt stared at her, dumbfounded that she was even speaking to him. He had only ever seen her in the hallway occasionally, almost always surrounded by a group of girls. “…how?”

Rachel scoffed, “I’ve heard you singing in the music room during lunch. You’re rather good.” She whipped out her cell phone, decorated with a star-bedazzled case. “So I’ll tell my dads to expect you then?”

At Kurt’s still slightly dumbfounded nod, she sent the message and jumped back up. “Great! Well I have to get to class; I’ll meet you outside the music room.”

She left with as much enthusiasm as she came, the star key chains swinging from her backpack furiously. Kurt couldn’t help but smile; as overbearing as her personality (and fashion sense) was, in that instant he hoped they could be friends. His first real friend.

*

Burt glanced up as Kurt came in from whoever’s house he was working at, doing a double take at the smile on his son’s face and the skip in his step.

“Hey kiddo, how did it go?”

Kurt placed his shoulder bag gently on the floor before bouncing happily over to Burt, who put aside the entrée list Kurt had put on the fridge for the week.

“It went great! Rachel loves musical theater too and we even sang a duet and she said I had a good voice! We’re going to do a whole project on Broadway. And her dads are really nice, they-uh – they made us a pizza.”

Burt heard Kurt’s voice rise slightly in octave as his eyes flickered between Burt’s face and the wall behind him, not-so-subtly looking for a reaction. He made sure to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to give off the wrong impression. He had a feeling, deep down, that Kurt would come out to him at some point, but he didn’t really want to bring it up. The moment passed, Kurt seemed to breathe a little easier and continued to chat about his afternoon.

 As it turned out, they had quite a bit in common. Burt became used to hearing Rachel’s name brought up with regards to almost everything, beyond thankful that Kurt finally had a friend beyond a classmate acquaintance. From his first encounter with her, Rachel’s personality came across as a loud, outspoken girl with bright clothes and a determined attitude. She always desired the spotlight and demanded the center of attention, igniting a spark that inspired Kurt to begin moving away from his careful, quiet poise and embrace his inner passion.

But their friendship was tested not two months later, when Rachel Berry was the first person he really knew to have her first Memory. According to her, when she stepped on her dads’ homemade stage to practice her scales one night, she saw a vision “clear as crystal”; an older-looking Rachel, performing on a bright Broadway stage, with the crowd cheering in a standing ovation. As the week progressed, she came into school with a new part of this past life remembered. She lived in a penthouse in New York City with a piano that sat next to a wall made out of glass, she was showered with love from fans every night, and she won an important award that she received with tears.

“Did it hurt?”

“How long did it last?”

“What happened afterward?”

“Did you see your soul mate?”

Rachel preened at the attention, floating in her element as she was showered with questions from their classmates. Caught up in her sudden rise in popularity, Kurt suddenly found himself tossed aside, unimportant in the face of the soccer girls now inviting Rachel to sit with them. It wasn’t until a couple days later when the novelty began to wear off that she showed any move to become reinvested in their friendship. Rather than giving immediate forgiveness, Kurt retaliated by giving her an equally harsh cold shoulder, deciding instead to spend time with a girl named Mercedes who had just recently moved to Lima. His growing confidence (thanks partly to Rachel) as well as the competitiveness that seemed to define their friendship had led to a fierce stubbornness that suited him well.

But as obstinate as he was, when Rachel showed up Friday night with a plate of homemade “apology cookies”, he couldn’t help but let her in for some “much-needed bestie time”, otherwise known as a musical marathon.  During The Sound of Music, as they watched Kurt’s namesake sing onscreen, he couldn’t help but ask what had changed.

“Why did you come over?” Seeing her offended expression he hurried to correct himself. “Not that I’m not glad that we’re finally talking again. But isn’t there some birthday party tonight? Caroline’s or one of those girls I’ve seen you with?”

“Oh.” Her face dropped. “Well yes, I guess we’re friends…or acquaintances at the least. I often talk to them about art and my goals of fame but you know…sometimes they just don’t get it. Sometimes I think they find me annoying, actually.” She cleared her throat, turning her large and slightly teary eyes back to the screen. “But you know, the life of a star isn’t an easy one and I’ve accepted that.”

There was silence between the two, the sounds of Maria singing through her scales an odd contrast to the sudden sadness of Rachel’s admittance. It turned out, Kurt thought as Rachel rested her head on his shoulder, that despite her extroverted presentation she was much lonelier than he had initially thought – perhaps as lonely as Kurt himself often felt.

They sat in companionable silence, sharing the plate of cookies until Kurt finally asked the question he knew everyone had already asked but he was still dying to know the answer to.

“Rachel? What was the Memory actually like? Really?”

He knew it was an incredibly personal question, but he hoped they were close enough that she would understand. Burt wasn’t as forthcoming about his Memories, and he missed having that small sharing of Memories he had enjoyed with his mother.

Rachel bit her lip, not in sadness but in thought, trying to come up with the words to describe such an individual experience. In the background, Mother Abbess explained to Maria that just because her soul mate isn’t God, didn’t mean wasn’t God’s will for her to be with the Captain (of course, a few scenes later she would discover they were soul mates the entire time). There was always something about this scene and the song that followed that had always captured Kurt’s attention. Despite his disbelief in religion, the idea of having a fate meant for you even without the knowledge of a soul mate had strengthened him each day that came without a Memory of his own.

“Breathtaking.”

Kurt focused his attention back on Rachel, who was looking through the TV to gather her thoughts.

“Exciting. Intimidating. Inspiring…” She sighed, turning away from the movie entirely to face him. “It was everything Kurt, everything I want in this life. Especially my Memory of my Broadway debut…it was so powerful and real and it’s a  _part_  of me. It isn’t just some far-fetched dream. And I want it again and I  _will_  get it again. It’s amazing Kurt, I can’t wait until you have one, because you’re a star too, I know it.”

“Well I do have the talent.” Kurt smiled, succeeding in getting a giggle out of her before her expression fell again.

“And um-there’s a reason I haven’t answered some of the questions people have asked me. I don’t – I don’t have a soul mate in that life.”

“No soul ma- at all?”

Rachel shook her head with a crumpled face. “Not in that life. I have fame and fans but…I don’t have a person.” She squeezed her eyes shut, wiping her eyes with a sniff as Kurt tried desperately to comfort her and process the information at the same time.

“Well maybe you just hadn’t met him yet at that point in your life, it could be-“

“No Kurt, you don’t understand! My soul was dedicated to my work and only my work, and I loved it…but it could only love me back so much. The emptiness was just as powerful as the standing ovation from my fans.”

“Well Miss Rachel Berry,” Kurt smiled as she looked up, “you have me in this life. And you can bet we’ll be fabulous together.”

He saw a flash of her trademark grin before she leaned forward to hug him, her cheek still wet from crying. “You’re like the brother my dads debated having, I’m so glad I have someone like you who can follow in my footsteps and learn from my greatness.”

Kurt rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless; this was the Rachel Berry he had come to know and love. For the rest of the night they continue their marathon, danced,  gossiped, even breaking briefly to make cupcakes before Rachel’s dad rang the doorbell at midnight.

“Awwww one more song papa?”

“Mr. Berry you can come watch us!”

Chuckling, Rachel’s dad nodded permission, leading Kurt to hurry to his dad’s room to pull him into the living room as well for their “curtain call” of the night. They chose ‘For Good’ from Wicked, the musical representation of the soul connection between Elphaba and Glinda. Their voices harmonized perfectly, and the song faded to a stunned silence before the two fathers clapped enthusiastically, although to Kurt’s dismay both their gazes were fixed on Rachel.  Who was…staring at him blankly, breathing heavily with tears running down her face.

“What’s-oof!”

Before he could ask what’s wrong, Rachel gave him a tight hug.

“That was amazing Kurt.”

“Aright, come on now Miss Berry, let’s get home. You both probably need some time right now.”

Kurt blinked quizzically – had their duet been that powerful?  _Woah. I’m better than I thought._  His confusion was furthered when his dad clapped him on the shoulder when the Berrys had left.

“Congrats kiddo. I’m happy for you both.” With a smile, Burt headed back up to his room, leaving Kurt standing in the hallway feeling like he had missed something extremely important.

*

The odd feeling continued throughout the week; his dad seemed oddly upbeat when asking him about school, Mr. and Mr. Berry had sent a basket of muffins to their house, and Rachel kept sending him what were likely supposed to be meaningful looks across the hallway and classrooms. By Friday Kurt was fed up, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on some kind of joke.

“Hey Rachel?” Kurt approached her at her locker, aiming for a tone that was more joking around than completely lost. “Is it just me or are things weird since last week…did I miss some kind of memo or something?”

His forced chuckle gave way to distaste as Rachel brushed him off with a wave of her hand, continuing her search in her locker. “Is this about the muffin basket? Don’t mind that, it’s just my dads, they’re happy this has happened for me so early. Isn’t your dad?” She spared him a curious glance as she gathered the books she needed and walked down the hall, Kurt on her right.

“Rachel, I don’t understand, what happened? I mean we  _do_ sound incredible as Elphaba and Glinda but I just-”

Rachel stopped in her tracks. “Well it wasn’t just the duet, Kurt! Obviously it was everything surrounding it.” Her hand gestures simultaneously displayed her passion and apparent annoyance at Kurt’s unimpressive response.

Kurt was at a loss, finally throwing his hands up in a dramatic shrug. “I don’t get it Rachel! Whatever you’re talking about I don’t understand.”

Rachel’s eyes widened as she gasped before glaring at him. “Take that back.”

“Wha-no! Rachel, take WHAT back? I haven’t done anything! Then or now!”

She stormed away, leaving Kurt standing by the lockers as an uncomfortable target of stares curious as to who had made the famously loud-mouthed Rachel Berry so upset. Awkwardly, Kurt hurried along with his head down to Memory Education, the class he and Rachel shared, hoping she would be forthcoming about his apparent misstep.

As he probably should have expected, her usual seat next to him was empty. Instead, Rachel sat across the room, alternating between vibes that she was heartbroken and glares that said she wasn’t speaking to him ever again. Kurt almost put his face into his hands in despair, before he remembered that he didn’t want to give himself worse acne. He was already pre-pubescent sounding, chubby, and without Memories – he didn’t need anything to worsen the odds.

Sighing instead, he turned to the class handout the teacher had given for today.

> **T/F: A Memory is limited to one of the five senses.**
> 
> False: One of the distinguishing factors between a Memory and a dream is the vivid realism of sensory input, often including most or all of the sense.
> 
> **T/F: Having a Memory of a particular life does not mean you know anything about the life other than that moment.**
> 
> True! For most people, having anywhere from 1-20 memories from a given lifetime is the norm.

A folded up piece of paper hit him sharply in the nose, making him drop his pencil in shock as the blonde girl in front of him giggled, turning back around. Unfolding the paper he saw it was a note from Rachel.

_Kurt, I’m sorry I got angry before. I know we never got a chance to talk about this and what it was like for both of us. I’m sure you didn’t mean to insult or belittle me, so I forgive you. But I really think this is important. Can I come over after school?_

_Circle one:  YES   NO_

Picking up his pencil he circled the former, tapping the blonde girl on her shoulder and ignoring her look of disgust even as she passed on the note. Catching the suspicious eye of their lazy but vindictive teacher, he quickly returned his gaze to the classwork.

> **T/F: You can have new Memories throughout your entire life.**
> 
> True, though the occurrence rate tends to decrease significantly after around 30 years of age.
> 
> **T/F: soul mates have the exact same memories of their lives together**
> 
> False: A person’s memories of their past life are unique to their own perspective. Often if similar memories from a past life are present for soul mates, there are slight differences in perception.
> 
> **T/F: It is possible to have more than one soul mate.**
> 
> True. A soul mate is not necessarily romantic in nature, and connections in any given life can vary in strength (even to the degree that the soul mate status may not be recognizable). Therefore it is possible for a number of soul mates to exist throughout lifetimes, although a soul mate of a romantic nature tend to be more consistent with regards to their presence.

This time Rachel herself dropped off the note as she walked by his desk to go to the bathroom.

_YAY!_

*

When the bell finally rang, Kurt had barely gotten out of his seat when Rachel walked up to him. “So how about you start by telling me how it felt from your side?”

Kurt put his hands on her shoulders. “Look, Rachel. For the last time, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you please enlighten me?”

Rachel pulled away harshly. “You know what, fine. If you’re going to deny that this exists, you can forget about being my friend. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

She began her usual storm out when Kurt grabbed her elbow as they left the room.

“Deny WHAT?”

“Our Soul Connection!” Rachel half-shrieked half-sobbed, resuming her exit as Kurt’s grip went slack with shock.

Feeling his chest tighten, he backed into the lockers in a daze, oblivious to the crowd moving around him in the face of an inner dread that threatened to overwhelm him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d LOVE to hear any thoughts/feelings/predictions/critiques/questions etc. if you have any.


	4. Chapter 3

Burt turned to face the office window as he heard the bus come to a stop outside, frowning when Kurt entered the garage with slumped shoulders and sat down on the floor against the wall. He lacked all of the excitement he had this morning over his brand new grey sweater that he’d been dying to wear. Concerned, Burt grabbed a towel to wipe the grease off his hands as he got up and leaned against the office doorframe.

“Hey, kiddo.” He paused, continuing when Kurt didn’t acknowledge him. “Bad day at school?” Kurt still didn’t say a word, his trembling hands still covering his face. “Kurt? Are you okay? Are you sick?”

Finally, Kurt simply shook his head without moving his hands.

Concerned, Burt walked over and sat down with an “oomf” next to him, gently tugging on his wrists to reveal a sickly pale Kurt. After a moment, Kurt’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Rachel and I have a Soul Connection.”

Puzzled, Burt nodded him on, “yes…?”

As Kurt just shook his head again, quietly whispering “I just – I don’t…” Burt sighed and took over.

“I’m sorry bud, this one’s on me. After that night we should’ve had a talk. Having a Soul Connection for your first Memory isn’t easy, but let’s –”

“I didn’t.” The words were so quiet that Burt kept going for a moment before they registered.

“– just go back to – Wait. You didn’t what? If your Connections are different that’s totally normal, Kurt. From the look of hers it was probably really dramatic. Of course that’s not much of a surprise from what I’ve seen of her.”

Kurt looked even worse than before. “No, dad. There wasn’t anything. No connection, or special moment, or Memory, or feeling…just nothing.”

Burt’s face fell; here he had spent time thinking his kid had finally gotten a break and had not only his first Memory but his first Connection, and now it seemed Kurt was potentially in the awkward situation of a one–sided Connection.

“Hey there, it’s gonna be alright.” Burt put a slightly awkward arm around Kurt, relaxing as his son curled into his side, eyes welled up with tears. “It’s okay bud. We’ll figure this out okay? I promise.”

As Kurt nodded into his work shirt, still sniffing his tears away, Burt was overwhelmed with just how  _small_  he seemed. Despite growing in age, height and confidence, he was still his little boy – his little boy who had always dreamed of having and sharing his Memories. So far Kurt had faced a tough time, and today was no exception, but it was time for Burt to actively try to help him turn his luck around for the better.

*

That night, Kurt was hardly able to concentrate on his algebra homework; instead tapping his pencil in various rhythms while trying desperately to overhear the phone conversation his dad was having upstairs with Rachel’s parents. He had been relieved when his dad believed him; following Rachel’s dramatic hallway reveal, he’d received over six text messages (a personal record) from Mercedes and Tina asking him about his apparent Soul Connection and why he hadn’t told them earlier. He hadn’t texted either of them back yet, still miffed they believed Rachel’s story before even asking for his side of the story.

A short laugh grabbed his attention as his dad’s footsteps finally sounded on the stairs again.

“Yup, Mr. Berry, that sounds good. Yeah, I’ll let you know. Thanks.” Burt hung up the phone with a chuckle and an amused eyebrow raise. “Those Berrys certainly are something.”

“Well?” Kurt gestured dramatically.

Burt shrugged, “I talked to ‘em for a while, Kurt. They and I really do think it’s the real deal, and she insists it’s mutual.” At Kurt’s downtrodden expression he patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry; I’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment if you really want.”

That weekend, after a brief, cursory once-over from his regular physician, the doctor passed it off as a “temporary psychosomatic block, most likely brought on by peer pressure, family stress, and personal anxiety”. Kurt had rushed out of the office as fast as he could, his lips pursed against his irritation and upset. He had never liked his doctor, a condescending man who often made Kurt uncomfortable with snide remarks. Kurt hadn’t expected him to help with this either, and upon arriving back home he locked himself in his room, emerging a few hours later with a list of clothes and equipment to buy for the yoga tapes he ordered online.

Burt sighed as Kurt left with Mercedes for the mall, already anticipating a regimented schedule of relaxation. If there was one thing his kid did, it was planning and making lists. As predicted, over the next few months it seemed that Kurt did just that. He claimed to focus his attention on everything except the Soul Connection, but at the same time his whole life seemed to revolve around the hope that each day might bring the comfort that everything was normal. That he was normal. But for all his efforts to decrease the stress and pressure surrounding his Memories, it was to no avail. (Plus, it didn’t help that Rachel constantly inquired about his progress and tried her best to “foster the completion of their Connection”).

Kurt’s mission continued all throughout summer and into eighth grade, the only major change being his growing friendship with Mercedes. Luckily, she and Rachel got along as well; the three of them enjoying sleepovers together, gossiping about the popular cliques, and giggling over the boys Rachel and Mercedes thought were cute. Kurt tended to stay out of that latter conversation, until one night when Rachel pulled out a “grown-up” magazine during a sleepover.

“’Shock your lover with bedroom moves from a past life?’ ‘Reconciling with desires from previous lives?’ Girl, where on  _earth_ did you get a copy of Cosmo?” Kurt couldn’t tell if Mercedes was more intrigued or appalled.

Rachel herself looked intimidated by the magazine. “Well, I told my dads that as a fourteen year-old I wanted to be able to grow as a woman, so I asked my papa to pick me up a Teen Cosmo from the grocery store. But he picked out this one by accident and didn’t notice!”

In all honesty, Kurt kind of itched to go through it, especially seeing some of the headlines on the cover (‘The Sensitive Spots EVERY Man Has!’ among them). “So,” Kurt tried to make it seem like he didn’t care either way. “Are we going to go through it?”

“Well I sure as hell don’t wanna be left out.” Mercedes snuggled her squishy pillow under her chin.

“We’re all mature teenagers here,” Rachel proclaimed. “I say that we make a promise that whatever is said in this room stays in this room. A slumber party secret!”

“Amen.”

“Agreed.”

“Wait, Kurt,” Mercedes looked sheepish. “You don’t mind do you? I didn’t even think that this might be weird for you.”

Kurt took a breath – slumber party secret, right? Not to mention it was something he had been debating telling people for a while. “Actually, it’s not weird.” Kurt hesitated briefly before looking them both in the eye. “I-I’m gay.”

There was a short silence, Rachel looking understanding and Mercedes looking surprised but accepting.

“Oh Kurt.” Rachel hugged him from the side, Mercedes coming in from his right. “How long have you known?”

“Have you told your dad?”

“Honestly? I think I’ve always kinda been off from other guys I’ve known. While we’ve all been going from one grade to the next, I’ve only ever seen girls as friends, not people to…make out with or anything,” Kurt made a face at the idea and the girls both laughed at his reaction. “And no, you guys are the first people I’ve told. Although I think he might suspect.”

The girls swore secrecy once more and the night continued. It was the best case scenario Kurt could have planned; the three of them flipped through Cosmo with wide eyes (and occasionally squeals and hiding their face in their hands). Kurt’s coming out was taken into account with hardly a blink, and soon enough the girls were asking his opinion on guys and whether he found blondes more attractive (not true, he preferred boys with darker hair). But the carefree environment didn’t last long; after the most risqué round of truth of dare they’d ever taken part in, Mercedes was asked by Rachel whether she’d had a Soul Connection outside of her parents.

“Actually…Kurt? I think that we have one.”

Kurt did a double take. “What?!”

Mercedes bit her lip, trying not to look as excited as she was. “Over the course of tonight I’ve been getting Memory after Memory and all these feelings and connections…I think it’s the real deal boo.”

Kurt just stared in shock, causing Mercedes to wilt with hurt at his clear lack of reciprocity. Their moment didn’t last long before Rachel jumped in with an exclamation that now she wasn’t the only one with the “pain of a one-sided Connection”. Her emotional monologue went on until Mr. Berry came down and called lights out, and Kurt still lacked any visible reaction beyond a stunned expression.

When Kurt returned home the next morning, it was with a rather surprising announcement.

“Dad? I…want to see another doctor. About the Memory problem.”

Burt raised his eyebrows, “another Doctor? I guess I could get you in to see Dr. Burken, he’s the guy I usually see.”

“No, dad.” Kurt lifted his chin in an odd mix of embarrassment and determination, “I want to see a psychologist or a Memory specialist…someone who won’t just tell me it’s my imagination.” He sat down at the table, shoulders slumping in defeat. “It happened again. Mercedes formed a Soul Connection with me tonight. And I didn’t feel a thing.”

There was a too-long silence as Burt sighed and placed his chin on his fist to think while Kurt stared blankly at the grain of their kitchen table as though looking for answers.

“Well Kurt if it really means that much to you-”

“Of course it does. Dad…I can’t live my life without any Memories or Connections, I just can’t. And not knowing if someone else has made a Connection with me?” Kurt looked fearful, “I hate that, not knowing what they know about me.”

Burt frowned, “you know, if someone Connects with you, they won’t be the kind of person to use it against you.”

“It’s not just that! It’s just – ugh,” Kurt uncharacteristically rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t like the concept of something being that uneven if it’s mean to be something we share. It would always be a hole between me and the person I’m supposed to know.”

“Do…you feel that way about us?”

“No! Dad, I…” Kurt trailed off, thinking. It was very common for children not to recognize the Soul Connection they had with their parents; if it was meant to happen if often occurred during the period of time inaccessible later in life because of childhood amnesia. It was a subtle Connection, usually only recognized if something happened to alter it in some way.

“See that’s just it! I have no idea if I have a Connection with my own father! And,” Kurt’s voice dropped to a broken whisper. “I never even knew if I had one with mom, and if it was affected when she died.”

“You did.” Kurt looked up to see a painful, longing expression on his father’s face. “God, Kurt she had such a strong Connection with you. I know you have nothing to go on kiddo, but just trust me when I say you are connected beyond this life, I promise.”

Kurt was openly crying now. “I can’t do this dad; I can’t live being blocked off from Connections. Without that there’s a chance that that I’ll never…that I’ll never…”

Burt stood up and watched as Kurt walked over to the kitchen sink, pouring himself a glass of water to calm himself before turning to face him.

“Dad, I’m gay.”

Of all the possible responses, he certainly wasn’t expecting the corner of Burt’s mouth to twitch into a smile. “I know. And it’s okay son. It’s okay.”

“Are you only saying that because…of your Connection?” Kurt looked hopeful but wary.

Burt scoffed. “No way. I think I knew just because I know you, Kurt.” He smiled, lost in thought, “and you wanting your own pair of glass slippers and your phase of loving everything to do with Prince Eric might have clued me in to the possibility.”

Kurt gave Burt a watery smile before moving forward to give him a hug, blinking away tears of happiness. “I love you dad.”

“I love you too kiddo, no matter what.”

A moment passed in which neither father or son moved, until Kurt spoke up again, quieter than ever. “Without a Connection, what if I miss the chance at meeting my soul mate? What if I never know him the way he knows me? What if…dad, what if I don’t have a soul mate?” Kurt closed his eyes, not wanting to even hear his father’s response. Saying goodnight to his soul mate was one of his nighttime routines from childhood he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of. The concept that he had been reaching out to nothingness all this time…it was too much to bear.

Burt put his arms on Kurt’s shaking shoulders, pushing him back a bit so he could keep eye contact. “Kurt, listen to me now, okay? Even if you never have a Memory; hell, even if you never have a Soul Connection in this lifetime. You’re special Kurt, you matter. And I don’t want anyone – no guy, or teacher, or doctor, and especially you, to think otherwise. You will find someone who’s as brave as you are, I know it. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay?”

“Okay.” Kurt nodded and hugged his father once more, beyond grateful for his acceptance and love.

*

Kurt glanced through the magazines on the table, all of which boasted various self-help methods and cheerful statements of encouragement. Using some of Burt’s contacts from his soul mate loss therapy group, they had found a psychologist that seemed to be exactly what Kurt was looking for.

“Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt stopped fidgeting with his hands and nervously followed the woman into the room, looking back briefly to see Burt’s encouraging nod. After perching himself awkwardly on the edge of the armchair he was gestured towards, he nodded through her polite introduction and pleasantries until they were both silent, Kurt glancing at her every few seconds before crossing his arms and legs and leaning back.

“I don’t understand, er – Doctor?”

“Please, call me Julie.”

“Julie. So…what am I supposed to say?”

She smiled, calmly resting on one side of her chair.

“What would you like to say?”

“…well what am I supposed to talk about?”

“For today, how about we start with why you’re here.”

“Well my dad-”

“I asked why  _you’re_ here, Kurt. I want to hear about how you feel about this, what you think about this.”

He paused; surveying her expression and only finding genuine interest and trust in her eyes. “Well, um, I guess. It’s the fact that I’ve never had a Memory.” Kurt cleared his throat, “and more specifically, two of my friends have had a Soul Connection with me…and I didn’t have any reciprocating feeling, even though we’ve talked it over with them and their parents and we’re sure it’s real.”

Julie nodded. “Okay, and how does that make you feel?”

With Julie, Kurt began to bare his fears honestly and completely for the first time. Their initial appointment lasted for over an hour, after which Kurt felt more exhausted and relieved than he had in a long time. Kurt continued seeing her every week, deciding to keep this from his friends until he felt comfortable explaining it. However, after several months of seeing Julie, one appointment stood out from the rest.

“Kurt? I think you have a Memory Disorder. Latent Memory Onset Disorder, to be specific.” There was silence, during which Kurt stared down at his hands as he methodically tore a tissue into pieces. The doctor waited in the silence until she realized Kurt wasn’t going to speak without prompting. “How are you feeling right now?”

Kurt was tense; “I-I don’t know. I just…I guess I kind of knew something was wrong – but,” his eyes scrunched up and he wiped the few tears away. “Why do I have it?”

Her eyes shone with the desire to help. “I wish I knew. We don’t really have the answers. But I feel that if we approach what’s going on from this angle, it might make life a little easier.”

Kurt gave a heavy, almost painful sigh, giving her a short nod. “Okay.”

*

Burt returned the tight smiles of the couple sitting across from him, feeling slightly awkward as usual while he waited for Kurt. As a distraction, he browsed a few of the leaflets on the table next to him

> _The Reality of OCD  
> _ Due to the wide spectrum of severity that differs among patients, OCD is too often self-diagnosed or used casually as an exaggeration. With regards to the actual disorder, Memories of affected individuals are narrowly focused on specific traits or rituals, affecting their behavior in this lifetime in ways that become repetitive and uncontrollable.
> 
> _Coping with PTMD_    
> Past Traumatic Memory Disorder is rarely given enough consideration for its debilitating effects. Involving strong activity in the amygdala of the patient’s brain, the disorder is characterized by powerful Memories involving trauma of some nature that manifests as symptoms of trauma in the current lifetime.
> 
> _Dissociative Identity Disorder  
> _ The defining trait of this disorder is the presence of multiple “alters” exhibited by the patient, which differ from the individual’s own characteristics in unique ways. Often these alters claim they are a manifestation from the patient’s past lives and/or fragments of the individual’s soul. However, the legitimacy of this highly controversial disorder is often questioned, as is the debate of whether it may be a subset of some other psychological condition, such as Fragmented Memory Disorder, Schizophrenia, or repeated drug use.

Releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Burt looked away and put his head in his hands. As many times as he’d wished he son wasn’t burdened with whatever was preventing him from having Memories, he had to remind himself that it could be far worse. Burt stood up immediately as Kurt emerged from the office, looking more low and lost in thought than usual. As had become their routine, they didn’t talk on the drive home, allowing Kurt to recover from the often difficult sessions. Or in this case, read the pamphlet in his hand – which he slipped under Burt’s door before going to bed.

The next morning, Burt took his best shot at Kurt’s favorite breakfast (crepes with strawberries and whipped cream) and greeted him with a long hug when he came sleepily upstairs, looking like he had barely slept a wink.

“It’s okay, bud.” Kurt let out a shaky sigh at the relief he felt at his father’s continued support. “We’re going to approach this just as we would any other problem, okay? We’re Hummels, and there’s nothing that can stop us, you got that?”

Kurt choked back another wave of tears as he hugged his father again, feeling optimistic for the first time in months. Sure, he potentially had a rare disorder, but at least he finally had a name and some form of explanation for the problem that had been eating away at him.

“Thank you dad. Thank you.”

Together they went through the pamphlet, which was a basic introduction to the general disorder; which was summed up as a patient with no access or no existence of Memories for an unknown reason. Burt’s brow furrowed over the vague explanations, but made note of the suggested therapies, hypnosis techniques, and meditation concepts listed as potential treatments.

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have to do some research, kid.”

And that’s when the google searches began.

> _I can’t remember my past lives_
> 
> _Ways to trigger a Memory_
> 
> _Latest age of a first Memory_
> 
> _One-sided Soul Connections_
> 
> _Can I still have a soul mate without Memories?_

Every few days after school Kurt went over to the library, coming home with new books and journal articles to look through.

> _The Psychology of Memories: What Our Past Lives Say About Us_
> 
> _Forgetting to Live: A Man Lost in his Memories_
> 
> _Memory Meditation: 10 Sure-Fire Ways to Master Your Past Lives_
> 
> _The Danger of Soul Mates…Should Connecting be Discouraged?_
> 
> _“I Used to be a Serial Killer” and Other Worse-Case Memory Scenarios_

Every day was spent doing homework and research; interspersed were yoga videos, different blocks of meditation, therapy, the occasional hospital appointment, and even some attempts at acupuncture and hypnosis. Beyond researching his own problems, Kurt became fascinated with the topic in general, actually enjoying the diversity of information the surrounding the mystery of Memories.

> _Physical triggers are the most common cause of a Memory, since Memories themselves are so intensely associated with particular sensory information. Another natural occurrence for an initial Memory is during or after sleep, separated from dreams by their nature and the individual’s ability to remember its occurrence. Artificial techniques also exist to manipulate the onset of Memories, including hypnosis, meditation, and pharmacology. Proponents of Memory suppressants or enhancers for those suffering from a range of psychological disorders argue that drugs can allow people to lead full lives that would otherwise be incapacitated by their Memories. Others argue that expanding upon the already substantial black market for drugs related to Memories would do everything from corrupting youth to decreasing society’s innovation to increasing crime. Even-_

“…Kurt?”

He jerked his head up from the textbook in front of him to see a concerned-looking Rachel in his doorway.

“Your dad let me in and told me I could come down,” Rachel spoke tentatively as she walked into the room. “I’m worried about you, Kurt. And I know I’m not the only one.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes as he shut the book, sitting up on his bed to stare her down. “Rachel, why are you really here?”

Rather than reacting to the question as a personal affront, Rachel sighed and sat next to him on the bed. “Look, Kurt. I know you can’t – experience this the way that I can. But we have a Connection,” she smiled sadly. “And I know that sometimes I can maybe be…difficult. But I do care about you. I even did that brain scan even though being around doctors gives me hives.” She gave a dramatic shudder before turning towards Kurt and making eye contact. “But I miss going to the mall, having sleepovers, watching TV shows, and singing duets with you! Kurt, ever since you found out about your…condition,” she lowered her voice as if saying the word would upset him. “That’s all you’ve been focused on. You’re researching instead of planning our high school image! It will be crucial for our next step in the journey to stardom, by the way.”

Kurt smiled in spite of himself. “That  _is_ true, and hopefully next year we’ll be able to move up slightly on the social food chain.” Kurt sighed, his tone turning serious. “I guess I just wanted to fix it, once I figured out what was wrong…I just want high school to be different, you know? I don’t want to be known as the boy with baby fat, a girl’s voice, and no Memories. I want to feel things Rachel; I don’t want to be cut off from the world we’re trying to join.”

“Don’t say that!” Rachel admonished. “I mean I know for me personally I’m going to start my own Myspace page to spread awareness of my talent.  _And_ I heard there’s a glee club at the high school! Let’s face it, if I want to live up to the expectation of my past lives that’s definitely where to start. Plus I got my dads to buy me an elliptical so I can start a morning routine to stay in stage-ready shape.” She paused, seeing Kurt’s slightly dumbfounded expression. “Oh and don’t worry, I don’t think you’re any of those bad things you said. Also, I think your voice is spectacular and unique. Not at the same level as mine perhaps, but that is what comes with life-long training.”

“How generous of you,” Kurt rolled his eyes fondly. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we Miss Berry?”

Rachel beamed as her Kurt shown through, scrolling through his iPod before putting on Le Jazz Hot and striking a beginning pose, taking the first line for himself.

It was the first duet they had sung since their Connection, their voices filling the unnatural emptiness that had become far too common in the Hummel household. They danced around; play-battling each other for the attention of an imaginary audience and holding the last note longer than necessary just to try to have the last word. At last, they both collapsed back onto his bed, laughing breathlessly and leaving Kurt feeling lighter than ever.

“Just you wait Kurt, we’re going to be popular in high school. People are going to recognize our talent and we’re going to have boyfriends, and everything will be amazing.”

*

They should have guessed. He should have known.

High school is hard enough, rarely easy for anyone; but entering high school as choir geeks? Being a gay high school choir geek in Ohio? Needless to say, being greeted with a slushy halfway through the first day of school was not what either of them had expected. But as they washed the disgusting frozen slush out of Rachel’s braids and Kurt’s scarf and tried to pretend they hadn’t heard the taunts of the upperclassmen, the two had to face the reality that they might face challenges even more difficult than before.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt takes on High School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter has been a long time coming! Life gets crazy and writing gets away from you...on the plus side, I have a nice chunk of the next chapter written! Enjoy and check the tag warnings - new ones have been added for this chapter. This includes the canon forced kiss. Thanks to therewasagirlwhowantedtofly and redpantsandyellowsunglasses for beta-ing and letting me bounce ideas off them!

Kurt rolled his eyes as Mr. Shue rattled on about their latest assignment: a song that embodied a past life they wished they could remember more.

“Thank you Mr. Shue.” Rachel took a deep breath, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance practically on cue. “I think it’s truly important to connect to the pain of a past life that’s just beyond your reach. As an artist…”

Kurt tuned her out, running his fingers against the back wall in boredom. At least this would be one assignment that he could actually relate to, as he had all but lost hope of fulfilling his childhood dream.

“Hey boo, you okay?”

Mercedes nudged his knee, alerting him that glee club had apparently ended and the room was abuzz with chatter again.

“Oh, yeah Mercedes I’m fine. Thanks,” Kurt smiled distractedly before stranding and adjusting his asymmetrical jacket.

“Remember solo auditions for Regionals are on Friday!” Mercedes grinned, “Let’s hope that between the two of us we can finally end Rachel’s winning streak.”

Kurt eyed the star in question as she flounced out of the room. He still loved her in the way one could love Rachel Berry, but ever since they both approached the unpopular sign-up sheet freshman year things hadn’t been the same. The glee club had started as five kids tripping over each other like some kind of joke. Regardless, Kurt and Rachel were determined to make the club a reality, motivated by their mutual dream of stardom. Well, that and the fact that Kurt couldn’t help but hope...maybe glee club could be the catalyst he’d been searching for. He thought for sure that his singing and performing would trigger his first Memory, like with Rachel. Music was his everything – his hopes, his dreams, his expression of himself to the world – it had to be a significant part of his past lives. _My first big performance_ , he constantly reminded himself, _that’s when it will happen. I’ll remember. I’ll remember who I am._

Unfortunately, that time had yet to arrive. Glee club had turned out to be a double-edged sword. On one hand, they preached acceptance and chasing your dreams; but on the other hand the choir room was often filled with just as much drama and hurt as every other part of high school. Beyond Rachel and Mercedes there was Santana, a beautiful but sometimes cruel girl who was incredibly tight-lipped about her own life, past or present, but was quick to judge everyone else’s. Her fellow cheer captain was Quinn, a stoic girl from a pious family who Kurt disliked without any legitimate reason, if he was being honest. Last of the trio was Brittany, a girl who seemed to live in her own unique world and often spoke as if she was living in her Memories - which she referenced so much it was often impossible to tell whether they were real or imagined. There was Mike and Tina, a sweet couple who seemed to be content to exist outside the spotlight, regardless of their rumored Soul Connection. Puck, Sam, and Artie rounded out the numbers with amusing, enthusiastic personalities that never failed to make glee club interesting. There were others that seemed to come and go, but the core of the group remained steady. Yet even as the club grew, Kurt’s voice within it seemed to shrink.

And then there was Finn Hudson. The goofy yet handsome leader in the glee club was a crush he shared with Rachel – a fact that had not helped the common friction between the two stubborn friends (though it was slightly helped by their mutual dislike of Finn’s girlfriend Quinn). Despite being a jock, Finn seemed to really enjoy performing, and didn’t usually egg on the idiots that made Kurt’s life hell. It wasn’t long before Finn became the visual stand-in for Kurt’s soul mate daydreams, usually earning him confused looks from the boy when Kurt zoned out in class. But he couldn’t help it; Kurt felt like he needed a superhero these days just to survive…

*

“I bet it’s because you’ve been a woman in all your other past lives and your soul is weirded out.”

Kurt shouldered past them, trying to ignore how stupid and transphobic that statement was.

“Freak!”

He let it bounce off his back. Again, and again, and again.

“I’ll bet the ice queen hasn’t even had a sex Memory yet.”

What he wouldn’t give to keep the flush off his face every time he heard that one, encouraging more laughs and jeers from his tormentors. As one’s sex drive developed, Memories had the potential to include aspects of one’s sexuality from a past life. Even beyond his own insecurities about his appearance, the lack of Memories increased Kurt’s extreme disconnect with that aspect of his life as well.

“Soul-less.”

That one _hurt_. More than he’d care to admit to anyone.

“This trigger any Memories?”

_WHAM_

Kurt’s gasped inhale caught in his throat, and he closed his eyes as the initial wave of pain in his shoulder dulled to a burning throb he knew would bruise later.

“My dad said being a fag is a punishment for a previous life, so what the hell did you do to end up looking, sounding, _and_ acting like a fairy?”

Many of his tormentors had parents involved in the Lima congregation of Christ Through All Our Lives Church. Their faction of religion, which sadly had a firm grip across the country, was dedicated to their horrible vendetta against the LGBTQ community. Convinced that homosexuality and other “abnormal sexual deviances” were a punishment for sins in a former life, the group was often on the news picketing events and spreading misery wherever they went. And of course, convincing their children of their beliefs, the result of which landed Kurt in dumpsters and lockers.

It was times like these that Kurt fruitlessly, desperately, tried to reach out in his mind and search for a connection or a Memory; some sign to know that he wouldn’t be alone.

But there was nothing.

*

Home at least, with its simple routines and traditions, was the one place he ever felt fully safe. Nothing changed, and Kurt preferred it that way. It wasn’t until one Friday night, washing dishes after their customary dinner, when something new fell into the Hummels’ lives.

“A date? Dad! You have a date? Who?”

Far from being resentful, Kurt was happily surprised at his father looking bashful and young again. It had been too long since he’d seen his father without the aging cloud of grief. And when Burt cleared his throat and announced that Carole Hudson, one of nurses at the hospital where his therapy group met, had asked him out to dinner Kurt couldn’t believe his luck. Taking it as a sign that an opportunity may have come at last, he continued to pursue Finn with subtle (at least he thought it was subtle) determination while encouraging the relationship between their parents.

Weeks passed, and now Kurt was learning something new about Finn’s mother almost every day. Carole had lost her husband within two years of Kurt’s mother dying, though he hadn’t been her soul mate, and had met Burt purely by chance after one of his meetings. She was “the epitome of a mother with the tact and compassion of a nurse;” according to one of Burt’s descriptions after a date.

And when she came to her first Friday night dinner, Kurt decided that he had to agree with him.

“Kurt, I just wanted to tell you right off the bat. I really like your dad and I can’t wait to get to know you better. But I know what it’s like to lose a family member, and I promise you, I will never try to replace your mother.” She had refrained from hugging him, clearly trying to give him space, and that was the first sign– the Hummels clearly had good taste.

But truly, it was when his father came home late from one of his dates in more of a daze than usual that Kurt had a feeling everything was going to change.

*

At first, he was hesitant and skeptical about his father and Carole being soulmates, despite the fact that he was well-versed in people having multiple romantic soul mates. But seeing them together, and especially how happy his father was, quickly smoothed over his ruffled feelings of jealously, denial, and uncertainty. He was old enough now to understand that this second chance for his father should be celebrated. Not to mention the fact that if one Hudson was a soulmate for a Hummel…maybe a second one wouldn’t be too far-fetched?

But all of his efforts towards making Finn suddenly realize Kurt was the ONE turned out to be for naught as a number of things happened within a few months. First off, Carole and Finn moved in with them, which was a struggle. Though tensions had been high at first, the “brother” word was thrown around far too much for his liking, and Finn had a tendency for inappropriately timed comments about Kurt’s condition; his hopes weren’t completely crushed. That happened when Rachel frantically cornered him before glee club one day to inform him that she and Finn had a secret picnic during lunch.

“Kurt! We _talked,_ Kurt!”

“Well that’s certainly better than the outcome of some of your previous attempts,” Kurt replied sarcastically as he fixed his hair in the locker mirror.

She glared at him, though thankfully sparing him a lecture due to her excitement. “I’m serious, Kurt. We talked and it felt like…we really dug deep and it felt like we really understood each other, you know?”

 _No, actually, I don’t_. Kurt thought sullenly, but was jolted out of his inner cynicism at Rachel’s next exclamation.

“And then there was this moment and we…kissed! Oh my god Kurt and he-well, honestly he kind of went all stiff and funny and then ran away but _still_.” Rachel finally took a breath, wiping her eyes happily. “Kurt…Finn is my soul mate.”

It was like yet another piece of Kurt’s heart, another fleeting chance at hope, was instantly crushed.

“What? Are you sure – are…Oh my god Rachel…I-I can’t believe it! I’m so…that’s great. I-wow.”

Thankfully, Rachel seemed to mistake his babbling for supportive excitement. “I know! And it may have been only a short moment, but now as we spend more time together the nature of our connection will be revealed and we can spend this lifetime-”

Rachel’s monologue was cut short when the man in question walked by, arm-in-arm with Quinn. Other than an uncomfortable twitch as he passed by, Finn gave no other indication that his soul mate was present. Her face crumpled as the bell rang, and Rachel ran off to glee club, leaving a shocked Kurt still reeling in the hallway.

*

It was a struggle to sit through auditions for Nationals solos that day after such an emotional blow (why they even bothered with auditions Kurt didn’t know - Regionals had come and gone with Rachel leading the group as always). The star in question got up on stage and gave an admittedly stunning rendition of To Love You More, shamelessly directing her gaze at Finn and his glaring girlfriend. As was her trademark, tears ran down Rachel’s face during her solo, but never had Kurt believed them more.

Kurt’s own mind was still running in circles, and it was only after Mr. Shue finished praising Rachel’s “emotional dedication” and “believable personal commitment” and called for him that he snapped back to reality. He paced down the aisle and marched up the stage steps with vigor, as the song Rose’s Turn came to him.

“All that work and what did it get me?”

He attacked every line, his emotions forcing themselves through him in a way he’d never felt before.

“Well, someone tell me, when is it MY turn?”

His frustration, his longing, his anger, his crushed hope came bubbling to the surface, echoing back to him as his voice took over the stage. He suddenly felt free; ecstatic.

_This is it. This is my moment._

“Everything’s coming up Kurt!”

He had never felt more connected with his inner self; this was everything he wanted to do and it _had_ to mean something, it had to.

“Ya!” He ended with a spectacular triumphant note, fist against the stage floor and his performance-level breathing the only sound in the auditorium. Kurt closed his eyes, his mouth curving into a small smile as he waited, feeling a warm light inside of him that he _knew_ was his first Memory. It had to be.

But as his breathing slowed and his adrenaline died back down, the warmth went with it, just like any time a song ended.

Kurt opened his eyes, sitting back and holding his hands up as if they offered all the solutions. They shook slightly and blurred as his eyes teared up.

_This was my shot…it didn’t work._

In the background he dimly recognized Mr. Shue saying “Thank you, Kurt. Mercedes, you’re next.”

Kurt blindly nodded and walked offstage and out of the auditorium.

_It didn’t work._

As he burst into the empty choir room, Kurt’s stubbornness finally broke through as a sob ripped through him, curling up his legs and burying his face in his arms.

_It didn’t work._

*

The Rachel-Finn-Quinn triangle persisted as the latest and most intense drama in the choir room, for which Kurt was immensely grateful, even if only as a distraction to draw focus away from his heartbreak. His source of hope had become his source of foolishness and embarrassment; his protector and knight in shining armor...was his best friend’s soul mate.

 _I’ll have to be my own protector_. He started telling himself in front of the mirror. _I can’t rely on someone or something that may never become a reality._

 _I have to have courage_.

*

It was one push too many. The rage at the unfairness of everything that had happened in his life came to a head, and he stormed after Karofsky, pushing the locker room door open with a hard shove.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Girl’s locker room is next door, fairy.”

“No. I’m tired of you shoving me into lockers and berating me every chance I get. What the hell did I ever do to you? Yeah I am different, for more reasons than one. I’m gay, I sing, I don’t have Memories. And you can say whatever you want about me, and push me down, and shove me around. But nothing is going to satisfy whatever’s missing in this and your past lives that makes you feel like you need to be a bully to feel good about your soul.”

“Shut your mouth Hummel or I swear-“

“Go on! But it won’t change anything. I’m still going to be me, unaltered by past lives, going to glee club, and wearing outfits you couldn’t put together if your life depended on it. I’m different…but it’s the best thing about me.”

Opening his eyes, which Kurt realized he had unconsciously closed, he was stunned by Karofsky’s lack of response. He lifted his chin, for once making eye contact with his worst bully without fear. He felt a rush of pride, something so rare that he hardly had time to recognize it, let alone embrace it, before his face was grabbed by large meaty hands. Foul breath blew into his face before Kurt was suffocated with heavy lips pressing on his own. The forced kiss could have lasted seconds or minutes; every movement of Karofsky’s mouth felt like a violation of the deepest kind, with Kurt frozen in absolute shock in his grip.

Suddenly, Kurt was released, the overwhelming _wrong wrong wrong_ scent that was Karofsky finally moving back from his personal space, allowing Kurt to fall back limply against the lockers. But while he was no longer held in place by Karofsky’s strength, his gaze trapped him just the same. Kurt’s chest tightened and his breathing became erratic, his eyes trained on Karofsky’s in fear; he seemed to be searching for something in Kurt. But what? Recognition…submission…aggression?

_A soul connection?_

The thought alone twisted his stomach so painfully he almost gagged on the spot, were it not for the imminent threat of Karofsky’s fist aimed for the locker next to his head, his face now furrowed in anger.

_WHAM_

The shock reverberated up Kurt’s spine, the sudden display of violence causing his heart to stutter and his breath to catch in his throat. A frustrated sob mingled with the vibrating metal as Karofsky stormed off without another word.

The silence was broken only by Kurt’s still panicked breaths as he remained frozen against the chill of the lockers, until the stench of the gym and the sweat from Karofsky’s hands caused his stomach to churn again. Despite his legs feeling like they were made of water, Kurt managed to stagger out of the locker room and into the nearest girl’s room, thanking a deity he didn’t believe in that both the hall and bathroom were empty. Falling to the floor and ignoring the implications of his jeans touching who-knew-what, he leaned over the toilet and allowed his body to gag and cough as his empty stomach contorted in disgust. Forcing himself to his feet, he splashed cold water onto his face and into his mouth as the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. Purposely avoiding the mirror (he can’t look at his face can’t see if he’s somehow still _there_ on his face in his mouth), Kurt slipped out the door before numbly heading to his next class.

*

And no one notices.

And Kurt doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Maybe a little of both.

 _They_ _can’t tell, they can’t see his handprints on my face or his taste in my mouth._

_But why can’t they see? Why can’t they see that the more they connect to themselves and move on with their life I’m slipping away? That I don’t know who I used to be and sometimes I’m not sure I even know who I want to be._

The rest of the day was long; the hallways in between periods seemed to hum with unknown danger. Kurt maintained desperate eye contact with the ground so he wouldn’t risk the sight of him. He had no idea what went on in Karofsky’s mind after that stolen kiss, but he knew he’d never have the courage to ask. Every time the thought came upon him, all Kurt could do was curl his arms around his stomach and remind himself that it didn’t trigger a Memory or a connection.

_I may still be separated from my lives, I may have had a first stolen from me in this life, but he didn’t take away my moment._

He had never been more appreciative of the walls blocking him from his past lives.

The drive home was spent building up his walls for protection; he didn’t want to worry his father, not when he was so newly happy with Carole. Taking a calming breath, he opened the door and went in, but was cut off from announcing his arrival by his dad’s excited call.

“You’re home! Ready for some new soul-bonding?! I’ve got some great tickets and-oh.” Burt froze upon entering the hallway to see Kurt in front of the door, grasping his school bag tight and eyes darting with confusion between his dad’s jersey and tickets in hand.

“I don’t understand…dad, you know I can’t…and even if I could I don’t think a sports game would-”

“Right-um,” Burt shifted awkwardly, “I actually thought you were Finn. We’re going to a game tonight; I thought it would be nice to spend some time together with everything goin’ on.”

“You connected.” Kurt took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have a soul connection, don’t you?” At his father’s hesitant nod he put on his best ‘everything-is-fine’ smile. “That’s great! I hope you guys have a good time tonight.”

_I’m losing him, I’m losing the only person who was always on my side._

“You sure buddy?” Burt’s excitement already seemed to dim, “I’m sure Finn will understand if we re-schedule for another time.”

“No! No, definitely go.” Kurt was already inching towards his room. “I would be bored anyway, and there’s this Project Runway marathon on tonight.”

_The entire family is connected...everyone except me._

Burt let him go without much more fuss, and Kurt had never felt more relief closing his door.

Several hours later, sobs wracked Kurt’s body as he folded the basket of laundry in front of him. He was just so damn _tired_. He was tired of doubting himself, of hating himself; of condemning himself to a future of misery and loneliness. And all of that was bad enough without other people encouraging the self-destructive mindset. Everything was coming on all at once and he felt overheated and overwhelmed…

Throwing down the jeans in his hand, Kurt went to the window and opened it to let in some fresh air, resting his forehead against the cooler glass. He took deep breaths to calm himself, wiping the tears from his cheeks with frustration.

_What if I have a soul mate, and he’s just as lonely as I am? What if he can’t remember either? What if he can, but doesn’t want to be with someone who can’t remember him?_

_Do I have previous lives at all...and were they like this?_

And then there was the thought that only bothered him on his darkest days

_If I’ve been through this before, how did I do it? Was it even worth it?_

Tonight...he wasn’t sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, questions, comments, even kudos inspire me to keep writing! If you enjoyed it I'd love to hear about it :) Things that are coming up - how do people feel about some early Finchel? Young Blaine backstory? Drama at Nationals? I'm always up to write what people want to hear!


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the POV of Ms. Rachel Berry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!! Obligatory apologies for how long it's been since I last updated. But real life and two other fic projects, one being my canon glee fic Between the Lines, made this get bumped back! But rest assured I will keep moving forward, especially now that glee itself has ended :'( I hope no one is disappointed with the non-klaine chapter! They are coming up I absolutely promise you, but Rachel just demanded to be written about more.

High school turned out to be many things, but it became clear early on that appreciative was not going to be one of them. Luckily, Rachel Barbra Berry was no stranger to being underestimated and having to power through turmoil to get to her spotlight, both in this life and those of her past. And after glancing over the limited options at McKinley High, she had decided that the glee club would be the vehicle to her destiny, with her as its captain. Kurt would be alongside her of course, as her supportive teammate, biggest fan, and competitor. If only Kurt would get over his…issue and understand their connection the way she did, things would be easier. After all, it was difficult to be a star without someone amazing to back her up. But still, loving Kurt and standing by him through his struggle spoke wonders for her character.

Other than glee club, Rachel kept a firm grasp on her classwork – the best schools would need a spectacular resume after all – and she tried to keep a glowing spirit of optimism in spite of the school’s cultureless bullies. But there was *one* aspect of her life in which she was desperately lacking.

 

“Hello Finn!” _Enthusiastic, approachable, but not overbearing. Perfect._

 

The tall, dreamy quarterback gave her one of his awkward smiles that she loved before continuing to walk past with his friends.

  
She sighed happily, floating to class with a smile. They would be such a perfect couple; and now that he had joined glee club and they had Connected she knew it was only a matter of time. With Finn by her side, glee club would become popular, she would be its star, and her future would be set. There was only the slight issue of him continuing to date that cheerleader despite the fact that Rachel was _clearly_ his only soulmate in this lifetime. But she wasn’t giving up that easily. So far she had used her numerous solos in glee to her advantage, directing them toward either Finn or Quinn depending on the genre and overall theme of the lyrics for maximum emotional impact.

Her next step was going directly to a source for inside information on soulmates. After observing Mike and Tina in the choir room over the past week, she had determined they were nice enough to help her but not popular enough to use her questions against her; the perfect choice.

After practice she hurried after them as they walked down the hall hand in hand, smiling brightly as she caught up with them. “Can I ask you a question? You two are soulmates, right?” She prided herself on getting straight to the point. She was serious about this – it was her future on the line after all.

Tina and Mike exchanged a look before nodding cautiously.

“Great!” Rachel exclaimed, pulling out a notebook and clicking open a pen. “So when did you _know_ you were soulmates? And did you just fall in love as soon as it happened or was it faster for one you? What was it like to be with the One and plan your future together?” She took a breath to continue but Mike stopped her, shaking his head in confusion.

“Woah, woah Rachel – first of all, our relationship actually started before we knew about the soulmate thing. We got close during the Asian Camp our parents sent us to and started seeing each other at the end of that summer…” He smiled happily at Tina. “And things just progressed from there.”

Tina squeezed his hand in return. “Yeah, it wasn’t a sudden thing, more of a…gradual realization. When we both started getting these really strong Memories we knew for sure.”

“And it doesn’t usually work like that,” Mike added, “being with the One or whatever you said. Tina and I know that we’re not each other’s only romantic soulmate in existence,” (Rachel noticed Tina frowning at that comment). “But we have each other now and we’re happy with our relationship,” he shrugged, “so we’re taking it one day and one week at a time just like any other couple.”

Rachel thanked them and headed off to her car, going over their story. She was just special, she supposed; she and Finn weren’t just any other couple because he was her one soulmate. But even though it was inevitable for the two of them to end up together, sooner rather than later would definitely be preferable. She was tired of waiting.

*

But fate, running by its own rules, was never predictable. And Rachel met Jesse St. James two weeks later.

He was the lead of Vocal Adrenaline, infamous on the show choir blogs, and just outside of McKinley’s regional division for them to have never faced off before. Ruthless, talented, and handsome, he was her double as much as he was her arch rival. He introduced himself as being on a mission to “wish all the show choirs on their level good luck at Nationals,” though frankly Rachel was convinced he was spying on them.

Her suspicions were proven likely when Jesse stuck around after his initial visit – apparently he was spending the week with his mother who conveniently lived in Lima. Mr. Shue, being a generous if oblivious host, welcomed him to stop by for a few of their non-competitive rehearsal numbers (against Rachel’s protests). The final straw was when Rachel caught him hovering in the auditorium during not one but two of her solo practices. She’d had enough.

“That’s it! Stop the music, just stop.” She shot a frustrated glare at Brad, who put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and slunk off the stage.

“Aww come on now, why did you stop?” Jesse emerged dramatically from the shadows (much to her jealously, he did have quite the flair for presentation). “You were just getting to the good part. I was even considering joining in on the chorus, maybe adding some actual depth to the number.”

“How DARE you!” Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder, the very picture of a scorned star. “I’ll have you know that I have been taking singing lessons since before I could talk. And you shouldn’t even be here. I told Mr. Shue not to and that you were just a no-good spy and – what are you doing? Get off our stage!”

During her rant Jesse had walked down the aisle and up the stairs to join her on the auditorium stage, that stupid knowing smirk still on his face. “I’m just messing with you Rachel,” he smiled, “you just…take up space, steal the spotlight, and demand attention. Unapologetically.” He shrugged, “it’s not every day I meet a kindred spirit.”

She crossed her arms with a huff. “What, your fellow robots on Vocal Adrenaline don’t do it for you?”

Jesse clapped a hand to his heart, his expression playfully shocked while the twinkle in his eyes spoke to his enjoyment of their banter. “Robots? You wound me, Ms. Berry. Should I return the favor, ask what it’s like working with a bunch of clowns that don’t appreciate or supplement your talent?”

Rachel flushed. On one hand, her ego nodded in agreement that her talent would always be at the mercy of the weakest in the group. But on the other hand, the New Directions were her family, not to mention that two of her two soulmates were in the club.  She took a deep breath before giving Jesse a dangerously sweet smile, walking towards her competitor in what she hoped was an intimidating manner.

“You know what Jesse, you may be right. I may be the most talented person that has or ever will walk through McKinley High.” She approached him until he was looking down at her to make eye contact. “Our glee club might be the underdogs, and we might be made up of the school ‘losers’.” She quoted the term with exaggeration, fueled by her frustration against everyone who didn’t like her and didn’t believe in her. “But we have heart and soul and determination and you better watch your back Jesse St. James because we are coming to Nationals and We. Will. Beat. You.” She punctuated the last four words with a finger to his chest, and with the last word came a sudden shock of emotion.

_Fierce passion, anger, hatred, love, jealousy, familiarity, sacrifice._

“No,” Rachel put a hand over her mouth to muffle her shock as she stepped back.

_Sharing the spotlight, walking the red carpet, power couple, teamwork, success._

_Fighting, competing, sabotaging, cruelty._

_It’s inevitable._

Jesse looked surprised as well, taking several steps back before recovering, his mouth twitching with what appeared to be amusement.

“Would you look at that,” he exhaled a laugh. “Looks like being kindred spirits isn’t the only thing we have in common.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was harsh and broken, the word hurting her throat as she forced it out. “Don’t – touch me, don’t come near me!” She jerked away as he reached out a hand.

“But Rachel…”

“Jes-” She stopped herself, unable to even say his name before turning away. “I’ll see you in New York.”

Rachel strode determinedly to the auditorium door, giving herself one last glance back. Jesse’s expression, open and hurt and _real_ , was the last thing she saw before leaving the auditorium with a slammed door for good measure.

Not in this lifetime.

*

Jesse was conspicuously absent for the rest of his supposed time in Lima, and Rachel was quite alright with that outcome. Instead of dwelling on anything to do with her competitor (she refused to think of him as anything more), Nationals became her sole focus and motivation.

But of course, even that goal wouldn’t be achieved without drama.

“Look er…Rachel, I don’t know if we should do a duet for Nationals.”

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked off-hand, still organizing sheet music into ‘maybe’ and ‘definitely not’ piles. “Of course we’re doing a duet. It was most of the reason we won Regionals after all, other than my solo of course.”

“Well, uh,” Finn scratched his head in a matter frighteningly similar to Mr. Hummel. “I don’t know if Quinn would like it.”

“QUINN?” Rachel fumed, tossing the papers in her hand violently on the piano. ”You’re going to jeopardize my future on the stage, and possibly your future as well because of her? What you have with her might feel good, but it’s just…infatuation, Finn! What we have is _real_. And maybe if you’d just take a second to-”

“That’s not fair!” Finn shook his head, “I don’t know Rachel. I like Quinn too, ya know? And I just don’t think it’s fair to give up on that just because we…you know.”

“We’re soulmates,” Rachel whispered, her soft voice a plea.

Finn swung his arms awkwardly. “I dunno Rachel. I like you and-” he looked around nervously, lowering his voice. “I felt something…when we kissed. But I just don’t know what to do.”

Rachel felt her chest squeeze as Finn went to back out of the choir room.

“Wait!” She gasped, hoping her pleading didn’t scare him off even more. “But I…it’s so hard! It’s like we’re attached, Finn. Like I can feel you’re supposed to be there but…you’re not.” She brought up a hand to wipe her cheek.

“I’m sorry Rach, I really am.” The nickname sent a fresh wave of pain through her heart as it recalled the familiarity of their Connection. “But I’m just not ready. I’ll uh see you tomorrow, I guess?” Looking increasingly uncomfortable with her distress, Finn tried for a sympathetic smile before leaving the choir room.

Silence fell over Rachel, as did the realization that maybe soulmates weren’t as definite as she once thought. Quietly gathering up the pages of music from the floor, she wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. After all; every great star, every heroine, every inspiration she hoped to emulate…if there was one thing she knew it was that the path to happily ever after was never easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! Comments, suggestions, guesses, prompts - all are always welcome <3


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York and Nationals!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note new warnings for this chapter.

New York City’s overflowing trash bags, flashy neon signs, honking cabs, and rushing passerby were a breathtaking shock to Kurt’s deadened senses. It scared him, if he was being honest with himself, the contrast between ‘Lima Kurt’ and ‘New York Kurt’. The latter felt like he could _breathe_ for the first time in ages. It was a relief not to be surrounded by bullies, by the leering face that still haunted his dreams and the physical and emotional abuse that seemed to have no end. Even the choir room, as much of a safe place as it claimed to be, seemed to drain more than it uplifted him. The busy streets and towering buildings of the city offered the possibility of a future, the chance to get lost among the crowd and be someone special. Not just the gay kid with no soul. As for Lima Kurt…well his idea of a good day was one that passed quickly and didn’t result in any unwanted attention.

But now, surrounded by his teammates as they wandered around the city streets with wide eyes and gaping mouths, the rare emotions of hope and optimism seemed within reach. Arm and arm with Mercedes, Kurt was taking as many pictures as possible, desperate to take a piece of this safe haven back to Ohio until he could return here for good.

“Enjoying the city, kids?” The rough voice came from a man leaning up against the wall, a ways apart from the vendors up ahead trying to sell knockoff bags.

“Yes, thank you,” Rachel responded, though her immediate step towards Finn betrayed her unfamiliarity with the city environment.

They continued past him as a group, but hesitated when he continued to speak.

“Any of you had any Memories here in New York?” He winked at them. “I got something better than them bags over there.” With a quick glance around, he pulled out something from his coat.

“Lemme see those.” Puck puffed up his chest as their resident “criminal” and held out his hand, to which the man shook his head.

“Not without payment, kid, guy’s gotta pay the bills. All I can tell you is that they’re legit.”

As Puck paused a moment in consideration, Quinn stormed over from where the group was watching nervously. “Noah you can’t be serious-”

“Dude, what’s your problem? First time I got high I totally had a Memory of the biggest, baddest most amazing woman ever.” His face was in awe, staring into space. “I swear she was my soulmate.”

“Noah, you think everyone you sleep with is your soulmate,” Quinn rolled her eyes dismissively.

“There’s still time to try our luck, baby. The Puckzilla is always open for business if my boy Finn is still neutered.” He waggled his eyebrows, ignoring the “c’mon dude!” from the man in question.

“Not a chance Noah, not a chance.”

Kurt tuned them out as the group erupted in an argument. The man noticed his attention and opened his fist. They were pills, packaged in the punch-out packaging resembling what you’d find in the pharmacy. Kurt stepped closer, speaking softly as to not draw attention. “You said these are safe?”

“Straight from the source kid. Just like in them boxes on the shelf, only they’re higher end and I cut you a decent price, you hear?”

“And…they affect Memories?” He asked, hoping his desperate surge of hope came across as mere curiosity.

“Oh, they do more than that,” the man grinned, “they make ‘em more intense, so you can feel more, ya know? Usually docs only give em out if your Memories are messed up, but why should they have all the fun? Just pop one and I’d give ya an hour or two at the least.” He looked around again, impatient. “Come on now kid, you want or not? It looks like your friends there are wrapping things up.”

“Noah!” Rachel stepped forward as Puck looked to approach the dealer again. “Just imagine if something happened and someone found out you took something that could qualify as a-” she lowered her voice dramatically, “performance-enhancing substance?! We’d be disqualified! And New Directions would be the laughingstock of the show choir blogs!”

Kurt swallowed, glancing at where Rachel continued preaching at Puck while Santana mocked her behind her back. They didn’t have to know…and he didn’t have to take them even if he did get them…

*

The pill, tiny as it was, seemed to burn a hole through his pocket for the remainder of their sightseeing. For all Kurt had been excited to explore his future home, everything was swept aside as his obsession with his Memories took over. Throughout his research on Memory Disorders, the use of drugs was always a controversial and non-conclusive topic. But one mostly universal rule of thumb was to avoid the use of Memory-related drug treatments until adulthood unless the patient’s condition caused them harm. Which, thankfully he supposed, Kurt did not meet the requirements for.

But what if all it took was one little boost?

The pill went from his skinny jeans to his pajama pants to his competition jacket pocket, feeling like a glowing beacon the entire time. Every comment, question, or pause from his teammates set off an immediate racing of his heart – afraid that his secret would be discovered.

 _It was only there just in case_ , he kept reminding himself, something he could try sometime if he needed it…nothing more.

_Could it be the answer to everything?_

It was in the dressing room, staring at his pale face in the mirror with the bright lights illuminating the shadows under his eyes that even makeup couldn’t erase, that he made a last-minute decision.

He slipped the pill in his mouth with a gulp of water, eyes bright with the rush of taking such a dangerous chance.

*

Through the adrenaline of warm-ups, Kurt tried to pinpoint signs of something happening, good or bad, but was caught up in the competition atmosphere. The mumble of the audience taking their seats and the harmonies of choirs warming up made the entire New Directions jumpy with pre-performance jitters.

Hand and hand with a nervous-excited Rachel, Kurt was practically giggling as they ran past the music rooms, trying to shake off rushes of heat, nerves, and excitement until they almost ran into a handsome boy coming out of one of the practice rooms.

“Oh!” Rachel exclaimed, smoothing out her dress skirt as the boy adjusted his blazer. “My apologies, we were just-”

“Shaking off the adrenaline?” The boy’s golden eyes shone with mirrored excitement. “Me too! No harm done.”

Rachel smiled, batting her eyelashes. “Thank you for understanding. I feel like I just can’t perform my best without a pre-show psych-up! I’m Rachel Barbara Berry by the way, captain of the McKinley High New Directions.”

“I’m Blaine,” the boy held out his hand for both of them to shake, “soloist for the Dalton Academy Warblers.” He looked expectantly at Kurt, (hopefully) unaware of the flush that was absolutely not performance-related.

“Oh!” Rachel tried to capture his attention once more. “This is my teammate and best friend-”

“Kurt Hummel,” he introduced himself breathlessly, returning Blaine’s warm smile.

The lights flickered overhead, warning competitors to take their places.

“We have to run but good luck to you,” Rachel nodded before grabbing Kurt’s hand again and pulling him back to their group. Kurt threw a lingering glance back at blazer boy – Blaine – before focusing on Rachel’s whispered last-minute tips. Soon enough, Kurt was bouncing on his toes in the wings watching Blaine finish charming the audience when Rachel squeezed his hand. It was their turn.

The New Directions began their first number, and Kurt felt on top of the world. The emotions he was feeling just kept swelling, far beyond his usual performance high.

Maybe _this_ was it.

Kurt closed his eyes and just sang. He was louder, better, stronger, and more emotional than any time in his life. Rachel was right, you did perform differently when you were connected; somehow you were _more_ than before. Swaying to the beat, Kurt imagined singing to Blaine as he came in with flawless harmony. Everything was going perfectly – maybe they could _win_. Maybe this could be the first step towards his future in New York.

Elated, the sound of the New Directions belting out the last note in their crescendo was the last thing Kurt heard before everything suddenly went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't do drugs, kids. Especially stuff sold by weirdos on street corners! My next chapter got partially deleted so it'll be longer than anticipated, but I'm working on it :D Reviews/feedback are amazing and help motivate me!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am by no means a medical professional so apologies for glaring errors I’m sure are there.

The first thing Kurt became aware of was a pounding in his head, a pinching on his arm, and an extremely sore throat, followed by an annoying beeping in the background. He blinked his eyes open slowly, wincing slightly at the onset of light.

“Kurt?” Mercedes’s soft voice caught his attention. He looked over, where several of the girls were hovering, still dressed in their competition outfits.

Good, so not in a coma then.

The door opened and his friends moved back to let the doctor through.

“So, Mr. Hummel, how are we feeling?”

Kurt ignored the question, straining his dry throat to clear it. “What happened to me?”

Before answering, the doctors eyed the girls in the room. “Ladies I’m going to ask you to leave, only family can receive-“

“It’s ok!” Kurt interrupted without thinking. “They can stay, I don’t have family in the city but I need someone here just, please – what happened?”

Seeing the doctor’s hesitation, Mercedes took charge. “I’m a registered soulmate of his; maybe I can stay while Britt and Quinn go tell everyone else you’re awake and okay?” At the doctor’s nod the girls followed her suggestion and Mercedes took a few steps closer to Kurt’s bedside.

“Well,” the doctor turned to business, glancing at the papers in his hand. “It appears that your body had an adverse reaction to the substance you took.” The man shined a light in Kurt’s eyes and went through vital checks, neither him nor Kurt acknowledging the sudden mood change in the room after the pill was mentioned. “It appears you experienced a sensory overload which led to sudden hyperthermia.” He stepped back and nodded, apparently satisfied with Kurt’s status. “Luckily we didn’t have to pump your stomach; it seems the small amount you ingested has been cleared from your body without sign of further physical harm.”

Kurt was in shock, the heart monitor betraying his nerves. He felt a wave of shame and fear, and he determinedly didn’t look at Mercedes. “What did I take? I thought…” he struggled to take a deep breath, “am I going to be sick? I don’t understand.”

“Please try to stay calm,” the doctor sighed, with the air of someone who has had the same conversation too many times before. “The drug you took appears to be an unrefined version of a common Memory enhancer, which can be dangerous if taken often and in high quantities. Especially if taken without the typical drug cocktail typically prescribed alongside it, there can be adverse side effects, as you discovered.” He nodded to the hospital bed. “Stay away from taking non-prescribed medication and you will be fine. My main concern now that you’re awake is if the Memory surge caused any psychological damage or set up a potential for future abuse.”

“There wasn’t a Memory surge.” The reminder was a cold pit in Kurt’s stomach. “I didn’t remember anything.”

The doctor paused in his scribbling. “Really? Now what-”

“I have Latent Memory Onset Disorder,” Kurt shook his head. “Been diagnosed for a bit now, but I’ve never been on medication or anything for it. I thought maybe this would help but I didn’t feel…anything.”

“Nothing? Can you elaborate?” Of course, now the doctor seemed remotely interested for the first time once Kurt’s ‘condition’ came up.

“Well I felt hot, like energized I guess?” Kurt felt awkward and wished he had asked for privacy. “Ancy maybe? I felt like my emotions were heightened – does that mean something?”

“Nothing beyond what performance adrenaline might cause,” the doctor said dismissively. “Were these feelings connected to anyone or anything? Did they echo another time or place?”

The despair seeping into Kurt’s skin was worse than any discomfort the pill had caused him. “No,” he admitted with a whisper, “I thought I felt more…optimistic though, or something. “

The doctor’s jaw twitched. Ah, well then.” He clicked his pen closed and lifted his head, the previously professional expression marred by a touch of pity. “Well Mr. Hummel, if your blood work and brain scan are any indication, I’m not sure pharmacology would work in your situation.”

Kurt cleared his throat, ducking his head as he felt his eyes water.

“The nurse will be in to discharge you, and my recommendations have already been added to your medical record. Take care, Mr. Hummel.”

The click of the closing door was deafening in the small hospital room, and Kurt closed his eyes rather than begin the task of facing his friends.

“It’s okay boo,” Mercedes whispered. “We can just say it was dehydration, you don’t have to talk about anything.”

Kurt nodded, sure that his tight expression didn’t do justice for how grateful he was. “Is everyone here?” He opened an eye and groaned at Mercedes’ nod.

“Mr. Shue made Sam and Puck stay behind for the results because someone had to.” She held up a hand at his hopeful expression. “No, I don’t know how we did but considering no one’s gotten a text I doubt it was top three. Rachel ran off with Finn looking upset soon after we got here – I have no idea what that was about. Santana got agitated after a bit and went outside to get ‘fresh air’, whatever that means,” she rolled her eyes.  “But everyone else is here.”

A wave of exhaustion hit Kurt, and he tried to relax into the pillow. The nurse would come and then he could go back to the hotel and sleep for as long as possible. He’d deal with the guilt of potentially screwing up their shot at Nationals and the stupidity of taking that pill later. For now he could just-

“Oh. And there’s one more thing,” Mercedes bit her lip. “The hospital called your father.”

_Fuck_

*

As it turns out, the “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed” talk in real life went more along the lines of “I’m angry, and I’m even more disappointed.” Not to mention it was also far more painful than any clichéd TV show scene had made it appear. After the stone-cold silence of the drive back from the airport (Carole had picked up Finn and taken him out to dinner), Kurt had tried to let his dad’s lecture wash over him as he fought against the hot tears brimming on the edge of spilling over. But once his mom was brought up and his dad lost his own battle with crying Kurt gave up, finally running down to his room and shutting the door with a sob.

Calling the morning that followed stressful and tense would have been overly generous. Kurt wore his mental armor as thick as possible, scowling when a schedule was slapped in front of him, detailing a list of support groups with names as ridiculous as Ms. Pillsbury’s pamphlets.

 _Why Drugs Aren’t the Answer_ – his dad had highlighted that one as nonnegotiable, apparently.  
_The Next Step – Moving on from Trauma in this lifetime_ – luckily not applicable to his situation.  
_Memory Disorder Support Group_ – Kurt scoffed, the last thing he wanted was to talk more about it with a bunch of other sorry souls.  
_The Key to Happiness_ – were these people serious?  
_Meditation Training: Finding Inner Peace (individual custom sessions available upon request)_ – well…now that had potential.

“I want you to pick at least two of these,” his dad said gruffly, passing the cereal box with a sigh.  “The docs seem to think this is the best thing for ya. But I want you to know I don’t think you have a drug problem or whatever.”

“This would indicate the opposite,” Kurt grumbled, earning himself a pleading look from his father.

“Come on kiddo, cut me some slack. I knew this Memory thing was eating atcha but I never knew you’d risk your own health like this. How do you think it made me feel, getting a call like that.”

Kurt looked down in shame, fingers absently tracing the plastic cutouts of their table placemats.

“I just want you to be happy Kurt; I want you to get the help that you need. Maybe some of this group stuff will help.” Burt shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Any remaining resentfulness or anger faded away as Kurt looked at his father.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Kurt said, his voice cracking. “I just-” he shrugged.

“It’s ok bud,” his dad came over to give a hug, ruffling his hair in the way Kurt usually hated. Today it was what they both needed; knowing that his dad had forgiven him, even if no one else did, it made all the difference in the world.

“I know last night was unproductive for both of us.” Kurt nodded in agreement. “But I think we both know where the other stands.” Again, Kurt nodded. “So I hope you understand that you’re seriously grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Kurt groaned and let his head fall onto the sheet but nodded into the table.

“You can go to school and glee club but that’s all. No mall, no friend’s houses, no movies.” He paused. “Depending on how you do with the groups we can talk in a bit about having friends over here. But we gotta be a team on this and you have to earn back some trust. We good, buddy?”

Kurt sniffed and looked up, smiling at his dad holding out a fist. “Yeah dad, we’re good.” He returned the fist bump lightly.

“We’ll do this together.”

_Knock knock knock_

“I think that’s your cue bud, or do you want me to give out the ‘he’s grounded’ line?”

“Nah I’ve got it.” Kurt got up with a sigh, straightening his pajama shirt and readying the line he would probably have to repeat to every member of the New Directions. He opened the front door, heading off any questions. “Yes I’m okay but I’m grounded for just about forever so-”

His words died in shock as he took in who was standing on his doorstep. Just as put together as he was in the brief seconds in which they’d met, a contrite expression on his face as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“…Blaine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long :O But again I promise I'll never abandon this fic. I love your comments and likes more than I can say! As always, I welcome any thoughts about this fic :D


	9. Chapter 8

“Umm…hi there!” Blaine tried to give a smile, grimacing slightly at Kurt’s frozen confusion. “So you remember me, then, great.” He cleared his throat at the continued silence. “I just wanted to ask - oh, I hope you’re feeling okay, by the way.”

Both boys flushed; Kurt in embarrassment remembering he collapsed in front of the entire audience and Blaine at the current awkwardness so unlike their first interaction.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Kurt tried to answer with dignity, despite inwardly cursing his unkept appearance. “Um. How do you know where I live?”

“Oh god I’m so sorry this probably seems like I’m stalking you or something but I promise I wasn’t, I actually - well first I contacted your glee club director because-”

“Kiddo, do I really need to take this over?” A booming voice made them both jump and Kurt screwed up his face.

“Look, I appreciate you coming but I can’t talk right now.” With an apologetic glance he stepped back and closed the door.

“No wait!” 

Kurt was frustrated now, he was embarrassed and tired and didn’t feel up to awkward interactions with Blaine, no matter how beautiful he was.

“I think you’re my soul mate.”

Kurt felt his heart freeze and his face darken. 

The sound of the door slamming between them cut off any reply.

Burt looked into the hallway at Kurt’s quickly retreating back. “Kurt? Everything okay?” 

The only response was stomping feet and another slammed door as he retreated to his basement bedroom.

Sighing, Burt called through the door. “Look kid I’m sorry about this, I don’t want this to be more difficult than it has to be for either of us. The sooner you get on those groups, the sooner we can move forward.” With a glance to the front door he sighed and went back to the dishes.

*

“Thinks he can just-no good-thinking I’m just going to-UGH.”

Kurt threw himself onto the bed with a groan of frustration, kicking his feet for good measure. Then, with a sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine, just for a moment, that it was true.

Those wide, golden eyes fixed on him, smile bright as he regaled Kurt with declarations of love. His bold tenor harmonizing perfectly with Kurt’s soaring countertenor in countless duets. Their hands clasped walking down the street, maybe swinging a child between them with curly black hair. Him and Blaine together in bed, skin to skin, a hand cupping Kurt’s cheek and trailing down to-

_NO_

No. He couldn’t go down that path. He couldn’t pretend to himself that he would have a normal future. Not again. Blaine was just confused. Another boy lost in the mystery of Memories Kurt would never have the pleasure to explore. The one upside, Kurt thought to himself as he rolled off the bed to his desk, was that he was 95% sure that Blaine wasn’t doing this to antagonize him. He smiled despite himself. Perhaps he could live with the flattering, but false, notion that Blaine simply wanted them to be soul mates. A boy could dream.

*

Kurt waved off his friend’s concerns when he returned to school, siting dehydration to his fellow glee club members and trying to ignore the occasional cruel reenactment of his fainting in the hallway. Sometimes he cursed the invention of YouTube.

He and Rachel dodged an end-of-the-day slushy, hardly flinching when the locker behind them was sprayed with electric blue ice.

“So, how did everything go?” Rachel asked, “Did you guys talk?”

Kurt shifted his bag to the other shoulder. “I told you Rachel, I’m basically grounded for the foreseeable future. And my dad wants me to go to a couple groups, to teach me responsibility or appreciation for my life or something.” He threw in an eye roll for good measure.

“Oh, no silly - I was talking about Blaine!” She continued walking with a smile on her face, seemingly obviously to Kurt’s shock even as he stopped short in the hallway. She paused, hand pushing the door open before turning around in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Rachel,” he fumed quietly. “Why in the world would you send a complete stranger to my house?”

She perked up again. “Kurt! Blaine’s not a stranger, we met him at Nationals, remember? He was worried about you - which was so sweet by the way - and I also talked to him a bit about his preference for ballads versus showstoppers. Did you know he-“

Kurt grit his teeth and walked past her, not slowing for the hurried clip-clop of Rachel’s shoes as she tried to catch up. And then proceeded to slam into him, muttering under her breath about his ‘uneven pace’.

But Kurt only had eyes for Blaine, standing by the edge of the school’s circle in that stupid adorable uniform from whatever prep school he went to.

“Oh, Blaine!” Rachel crowed in his ear, waving her hand frantically.

Blaine returned the wave, though his arm fell as Kurt’s pace picked up.

“Blaine.” He hissed once he was in earshot, “what are you doing here?”

Blaine cleared his throat. “Well I was going to thank you for agreeing to talk to me…” His voice trailed off at the flat look on Kurt’s face and the overeager expression on Rachel’s, who had run forward to insert herself into the conversation. “Or not.”

“Well I was getting there,” Rachel huffed.

Kurt held out his hands to both of them. “Listen, I swear if you don’t back off I’m going to tell my father I’m being harassed by a glee club rival.” He laughed to himself, “I could use the scapegoat.”

“Please don’t!” Blaine took a step forward, eyes seemingly wide with fear - whether the threat of Kurt’s father or not being able to see him again Kurt wasn’t sure. 

Kurt let out a calming breath and looked over to Rachel. “Can you give us a minute?”

Despite her clear disappointment Rachel nodded and walked over to where she could see the football team warming up for practice. 

Kurt gestured for Blaine to step behind his car with him, and suddenly felt himself deflate. He was tired, and didn’t have much time before he was expected home. “Look Blaine, what is it that you want from me? If you want me to embrace you tearfully because I’ve found my soul mate, it’s not going to happen. I’m…it’s complicated.” Kurt gave him a rueful smile, unsure in the moment whether he wanted Blaine to proclaim it didn’t matter or for him to turn and leave.

“Hey, I get it - not that I’m saying I can completely understand what you’re going through - I guess what I mean is-” Blaine smiled back, “it’s complicated for me too. And I’m sorry, I don’t want to make anything difficult for you. But I really think we have a strong connection…I think you’re my soul mate.”

His face was open and his expression earnest, so much so that Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose in confusion. 

“Fine.” Kurt raised his gaze to meet Blaine’s ecstatic grin. “Look, I don’t feel comfortable telling you any details, but I’m essentially grounded. Indefinitely, or at least until I get started on these groups my dad wants me to try.” He took a breath. _Courage_ , he thought. “Give me your phone.” Blaine handed it over quickly and Kurt typed out his number, all the while ignoring the internal excitement of giving a boy his number. “I’ll give you until the end of the month, okay? You’re probably going to be done before that point anyway.” The last part of the sentence was muttered under his breath. 

“Really?” Blaine gasped. “You believe me?”

Sympathy and guilt burned in the back of Kurt’s mind but he swallowed and pushed them away. 

“No.” Kurt knew his expression matched his acid tone, but it couldn’t be helped. He had long since had to build his armor against being hurt. “I’m sorry, Blaine. I hope you won’t be disappointed in the end.” He blinked his eyes against sudden wetness - he was not going to cry until this was over and they both realized it was pointless to try and connect with him.

“I won’t be.” Blaine’s voice was confident and his eyes glistened as well. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for a chapter taking this long, all I can offer is the reassurance again that I won't abandon this :) Thank you for your patience, and here's hoping at least one of you amazing people is still reading!


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt gave Blaine one month; he knew Blaine would lose interest long before then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...no excuse but writer's block and life for why this has taken so long. Good news is that I've decided a lot of things about the fic and I think I can wrap it up in not too many more chapters! Also this chapter has a bonus cameo from another fandom :)

After careful compromise with his father, Kurt texted Blaine a single sentence.

_Your month starts now._

Sighing heavily, Kurt tossed aside his phone. He had expected his father to be a helpful source of procrastination, but surprisingly he hadn’t taken much convincing to allow once weekly outings with Blaine. Assuming, of course, that he still attended his groups and the activities were all Burt-approved (Kurt had resisted rolling his eyes at that stipulation).

_Buzz_

_Buzz_

Stomach twisting, Kurt stared at the ceiling. It was probably just Rachel trying to bug him, that’s all. 

_Buzz_

_Buzz_

With a growl of self-deprecation Kurt buried his face in his pillow, reaching for his phone and peeking with one eye.

4 Messages from Blaine

_Hooray!!_

_I’m really excited to get to know you_

_I hope you are too_

_:)_

Kurt smiled before he could help himself. 

He was so screwed.

*

“I am so screwed,” Kurt said honestly as he stared at the pottery wheel in front of him. Why on earth Blaine had chosen an art class for their first outing Kurt had no idea. “Performance is one thing, but this kind of art? Completely out of my league.” 

Blaine rolled his sleeves up, rubbing his hands together with glee as their instructor plopped two slabs of wet, grey clay in front of them. 

“Me neither! That’s the fun part!” He began to poke at the lump as the instructor, a tiny asian woman with chopped hair, clapped her clay-covered hands together. 

“Welcome!” She grinned at the small gathering of friends and couples around pottery wheels. “My name is Lardo and I’m here to help you all with your foray into the art of ceramics. I’ll be coming around to help you with ideas, technique, or how to work those wheels. This is totally freeform, so let your inspiration guide you. Whether it be your Memories, Soulmate, or how you’re feeling today, don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty!”

Kurt, who had tensed at the mention of Memories, relaxed at Lardo’s chill demeanor. There weren’t any expectations here; maybe he could have a good time.

Forty minutes later both boys were breathless with laughter. It had all started when Blaine made the wheel spin too quickly, splashing gray water onto his red polo. A beat of horror, then Kurt couldn’t help a half-hidden snort of laughter, followed by a chuckle of amusement from Blaine. Shortly after he abandoned the wheel for a freeform sculpture on the table. Kurt stuck with his vase, focusing intently on pinching and pulling the clay until-

“How’s it going Kurt?” Blaine asked, “I’m - oh my.”

“Yeah?” Kurt responded without taking his eyes from the edge he was working on.

Blaine cleared his throat, cheeks darkened when Kurt finally glanced up. “It’s just-uh-your vase. It’s a _bit_ -“

“What’s wrong with it?” He frowned defensively.

“Phallic?” The response was apologetic.

Sputtering, Kurt made to defend his masterpiece when he pushed his chair back to survey his work at a distance. 

_Shit. And to think he had planned to give this as a gift to Carole!_

“I made a dick vase.” Kurt whispered in horror, and their instructor cackled as she walked by at the perfect moment.

“Hey, you never know when you’ll need one! My friend has at least one in his apartment.”

Wordlessly, Kurt flattened his palm and squished his vase into a flat blob. He glanced up to make eye contact with Blaine and this time they both laughed out loud, tears almost coming to Kurt’s eyes. 

In the end, Blaine ended up with what he claimed was a bowtie paperweight (causing more teasing when Kurt accidentally complimented his snowman), and Kurt with a less offensive small bowl to place keys in.

They said goodbye at the door, both covered in dry, cracking clay. 

“I had fun,” Kurt said, surprised for a moment that he meant it. The past couple hours had been a chance to be silly and have fun, allowing him to leave the heavy thoughts he dealt with on a daily basis behind.

“Me too!” Blaine beamed. “I’ll text you with my next idea.”

“I look forward to it.”

*

Kurt was not looking forward to this. Shuffling his feet nervously, he tugged on the straps of the safety harness and compulsively tapped his helmet. This had all been fun and games when he teased Blaine for getting a size small harness, but his amusement faded upon seeing the high ropes course before them. It was reminiscent of gym classes from years past, definitely not a source of happy memories. Without thinking, he voiced the comparison aloud, and was surprised when Blaine nodded in familiarity.

“It’s sad, how kids can be so cruel.” There was something in his face and his tone that screamed of a backstory…different than Kurt’s but possibly just as troubling. It made Kurt want to know more about him, and maybe share more about himself. Not now, but maybe if these meetings continued to go well…

Blaine turned to him with a supportive, warm smile. “Don’t worry, no judgment here. I’m a little nervous myself.”

The guide explained the first challenge to them, and soon Kurt found himself much closer to Blaine, and a super sweet twenty-something girl from Cleveland, than he ever expected. They pulled and pushed and supported each other to the top of three huge logs strung together. Kurt felt no hesitation as Blaine grasped his and the girl’s hands to raise in victory.

Neither was he surprised surprised when Blaine murmured “courage” before Kurt took a deep breath and they began to climb a tall, thin column. Standing on the tiny platform as the column swayed in the wind, Kurt clutched the arm of Blaine’s jacket with genuine fear as he glanced down. Had this looked so high from below?

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Blaine gulped, purposely staring straight ahead at the small trapeze the two of them would aim for.

“No, we’ve got this.” Kurt sucked in a breath as another gust of wind threatened to destabilize them. “If we don’t try this I know I’ll regret it.”

“A leap of faith,” Blaine murmured, looking to Kurt for recognition. Upon receiving none he shrugged bashfully. “We’ll have to do a movie marathon at some point, if you’re into that.”

“Let’s see if we survive this first,” Kurt gulped, “on the count of three?”

Blaine nodded without looking his way, biting his lip. “One.”

“Two, three!” Kurt finished, and his heart jumped into his throat as he leapt in the air towards the trapeze. It took a moment for their success to register and he laughed aloud as Blaine hollered joyfully, both their hands side by side on the swinging bar. 

Legs kicking, the two shared a gleeful look. Kurt hadn’t felt this carefree in…ages. Maybe these outings weren’t such a bad idea. 

*

Kurt hadn’t realized that he’d started looking forward to texts from Blaine planning their next event until the radio silence of the following week. He suddenly felt unsure, both at himself for depending too much on someone else, and worrying if something had happened to Blaine. What if he changed his mind? Was he already tired of trying to connect to someone like Kurt when there was no chance of it happening?

Ignoring the voice in his head that said not to get attached, Kurt grabbed his phone.

_To Blaine: Hi Blaine! How are you doing?_

“Could I be any more lame?” Kurt groaned to himself, throwing aside the phone and and finishing his morning routine. It wasn’t until homeroom when his phone buzzed with a reply. 

_From Blaine: Ugh. I’m so sorry I haven’t texted you! :( I came down with an awful cold and haven’t been off the couch in three days :(_

Kurt found himself smiling at the emojis, and before he could respond the dots to signify typing popped up.

_From Blaine: I feel horrible that I haven’t gotten to plan anything! I was going to drag my ass off the couch and go to yoga this weekend. So unless that sounds appealing, we’ll have to wait until next week :P_

_To Blaine: Now that’s something I’ve done before! I’ve been trying yoga since -_

Frowning, Kurt deleted that last part. No need to bring up his condition.

_To Blaine: Now that’s something I’ve done before! Your instructor can’t be any stricter than the lady I’m used to._

When Kurt entered the studio Blaine had texted him, he was immediately struck with a wave of incense and heat. It was a far cry from the modern, minimalistic studio he had gone to since his diagnosis. 

“Blaine!” Came a cry from the front desk, “it’s been long enough!”

A tattooed man with eyeliner and the tips of his dark hair bleached stood up from behind the front desk where he was sitting on an exercise ball. 

“Hey Elliott!” Blaine moved forward, embracing the man with familiarity. “I know it’s been too long, between school and other stuff…”

“Who’s your friend?”

“This is Kurt! He’s a friend from McKinley. Kurt, this is Elliott, he’s our instructor.” 

“Sweet,” Elliot shook Kurt’s hand enthusiastically. “Well get yourselves changed! It was the perfect day to bring him, Blaine. I’m doing partner yoga today!”

Blaine flushed as the two of them turned to the changing area. “I didn’t know he was doing partner yoga, sorry.”

With a shrug, Kurt slipped off his shows and put them into a cubby. “I’ve never tried that, it could be fun.”

*

“Reach forward as far as you can,” Elliott directed. “Very good, now bring that hand down to either your shin, a block, or the ground. Use your partner to help your alignment.”

This class was challenging, for more reasons than one. The heat was on high, dampening Kurt’s body with sweat. And as if it wasn’t difficult enough once he saw Blaine’s small green shorts, most of Elliott’s paired poses required their bodies to be pressed up against each other. He tried to listen to Elliott’s direction and focus on his breathing, but it was difficult whenever he got a view of Blaine’s ass mid-lunge. With each pose they held and breathed through together, Kurt had never felt closer to someone else. Something he didn’t think would be possible without a Soul Connection. 

But it was probably just the incense getting to his head, nothing more. Or pure attraction; those shorts _were_ sinful after all.

Feeling sleepy and thoroughly relaxed, the two shared a lunch at a sushi place recommended by Elliott. A month ago, Kurt would have scoffed at the very idea of being seen in public in fitness wear, let alone sweat-soaked post-yoga gear. But it seemed like spending time with Blaine had changed many of Kurt’s preconceptions about himself. 

Between laughing about the America’s Next Top Model episode they had watched that week, Blaine checked his watch and sighed. “I better be off soon, my parents expect me home and I have a history paper to finish.” His smile dimmed slightly. “And I guess my month’s almost up…maybe one more outing?”

How could his heart hurt so badly when Kurt had gone into this knowing it wouldn’t work out? 

“Yeah,” Kurt’s voice caught in his throat, “I guess so.”

*

_From Blaine: So…any last requests for our last outing?_

_To Blaine: Nothing in particular I guess, everything’s been good so far._

“You an’ that Blaine kid planning another date?” Burt questioned as the TV went to commercial, causing Kurt to sputter in response.

“Date? What? No, dad. Oh my god. He’s just a friend, he just wanted to get to know me better, that’s what these are for. That’s all. I’m serious!” He added at Burt’s quirked eyebrow. “If you really want to know,” Kurt felt his anger rise, though at what or who he couldn’t say. “This whole stupid thing is pointless because he’s going to realize he can’t Soul Connect with me anyway.”

Burt held up his hands defensively. “Woah there kiddo, didn’t know I hit a sore spot. Call it whatever you want, as long as you keep going to those groups and following my rules.”

“It’s not a date.” Kurt huffed, setting aside his phone a tad harder than necessary. “Now what’s the score of whatever we’re watching?”

The change in subject wasn’t commented on, but Kurt remained stiff for the remainder of the evening, ignoring his phone entirely. He allowed himself to peek just before going to bed, hiding his smile in the pillow. 

 _From Blaine_ : _oh! I’ve been talking with the Warbler boys about arranging a karaoke night. Does that sound interesting to you?? :)_

_To Blaine: Sounds perfect._

*

The following days were filled with discussion of song suggestions, both for duets and playful battles between the two glee clubs. Burt was thrilled that Kurt was getting involved in a “community event without the nonsense of before”, and was planning to attend with Carole. 

The night of the karaoke found Kurt bouncing on their platform ‘stage’, Blaine on his tiptoes peaking around their makeshift curtain. Kurt had questioned the inclusion of a curtain for karaoke, but Blaine insisted that they were the opening performance, and their level of star power deserved a curtain.

(Kurt couldn’t argue with that)

Their performance of ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’ brought down the house, and was the perfect start to the night. The Warblers and New Directions performed with and against each other, with laughter and cheers coming from everyone present. For the first time since he was a child, Kurt didn’t think about drawing from Memories or projecting his Soul. He just sang his heart out, enjoying every second of applause under the lamps posing as a spotlight. When the event ended, his arms were around Rachel’s and Blaine’s waists as the performers all took a bow.

Blaine had offered to drive Kurt home, so Kurt loitered near the car while he chatted and said goodnight to his fellow Warblers, receiving enthusiastic slaps on the shoulder from the night’s success. 

“I was totally right, wasn’t I?” The quiet and satisfied voice of Rachel popped up beside him.

“About our duet?” Kurt asked, reluctantly taking his eyes from Blaine. “I already said that the suggestion of the Happy Days/Get Happy duet was a great idea when you suggested it.”

Rachel nodded to herself. “Well, that. But no! I was talking about Blaine, silly.” 

“What about Blaine?” She had his full attention now.

She rolled her eyes, putting her hands on her hips. “That he would be perfect for you! Why do you think I went through all this trouble of getting you guys together? It’s a great example of why we’re Soulmates obviously, that I know you so well that I’m able to tell right after one meeting that someone would be good boyfriend material-”

Kurt, eyes wide, put a finger over her lips to stop her, quickly glancing over at the Warblers and sighing with relief when he saw Blaine was still occupied. “Rachel! Have you been talking to my dad? We’re friends, that’s all. Friends that like to spend time together. I do appreciate your part in that but don’t go around talking about…that.” He finished quietly. “Look, we have a lot in common, and I’ll give you that he’s handsome, and I enjoy spending time with him.” He huffed in frustration as Rachel’s eyebrows rose. “But that doesn’t mean anything! Blaine’s a romantic, I can tell. He wants - no he deserves a Soulmate he can Connect with. And I can’t give that to him.” _Even though I want to._

Those unspoken words echoed in his mind, Rachel’s reply turning to white noise as he turned once again towards the Warblers. Blaine was laughing, his triangular eyebrows scrunched as he shook his head in response to the group. He reached up to brush a hand over his hair (checking his gel, Kurt knew), and caught Kurt’s eye. Face lighting up, he appeared to wave off his classmates as he walked toward the cars. Distantly, Kurt clued into the fact that some of the boys were whistling at Blaine’s back, causing a subtle blush to redden the Warbler’s cheeks. The color suited him, Kurt noted.

_Shit_

Liking Blaine was inevitable, but falling for him? That was dangerous. Even if they were a good match, the possibility of Blaine meeting a romantic soulmate would always hang over Kurt’s head. His life had already caused him so much pain…was it worth risking more?

“Hey Kurt! Sorry you were waiting,” Blaine said breathlessly as he joined them. “Does Rachel need a ride too?”

“No I’m fine,” Rachel said quickly, staring intently at Kurt. “You two enjoy your ride.” With one obvious jerk of her chin towards Blaine, she ran to a car across the lot.

Blaine’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he shrugged and opened the passenger side door with a flourish for Kurt.

Yeah. This was going to be a problem.

*

The drive home was as comfortable as always, with both boys discussing the best performances of the night and the possibility of making it an annual event. Things were fine until Kurt and Blaine found themselves in front of the Hummel house with Kurt’s imposed deadline of a month an elephant in the room too large to ignore. 

“Kurt-”

“Blaine-”

Both cut off as they began at the same time, and Blaine’s eyes lit up in a hope so pure it nearly broke Kurt’s heart. 

“Yes?!”

The words Kurt was planning to say became stuck in his throat. His gentle letdowns, the ‘let’s be friends’, it was as if something was pulling it away from his tongue. 

“It’s been a month,” he whispered instead. Blaine nodded in response. “You told me that you thought I was your Soulmate. I told you that you were wrong.” He swallowed. “My thoughts haven’t changed.”

Blaine’s expression gave away little. “Neither have mine. So where does that leave us?”

The silence was heavy, with neither wanting to break it. 

“What do you want from me, Blaine?” Kurt finally asked. “Because I can’t give you any more than this. Just me, no Memories, no Connections, nothing.”

“And when did I ever say I want more than that?” Blaine’s voice was sure and confident.

“You deserve more than that,” Kurt countered.

“Don’t I get a say in what I deserve?!” Blaine’s voice was raised, and his eyebrows were furrowed in frustration. “I like you Kurt, I really like you. Why isn’t that enough?” His voice broke on the last word, and Kurt himself blinking furiously to keep from crying.

“I’m afraid,” Kurt whispered.

Blaine held his arms out, looking relieved as Kurt allowed himself to step into his embrace. Kurt shook where he was pressed against Blaine’s shoulder, on the cusp of having what he had convinced himself he could never have.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Blaine said quietly, “this is new for me too.”

Kurt stepped back, holding Blaine’s hands when he tried to pull them away. “Does it bother you, that I won’t have any Memories of you?”

“No,” Blaine answered honestly, “I promise you Kurt, it doesn’t.”

Nodding, Kurt swung their hands back and forth, looking down. He breathed out loudly. “So. I guess the question again is; where does this leave us?”

“Well,” Blaine smiled shyly. “How about this. Will you, Kurt Hummel, go on a date with me?”

“No.” Kurt smiled. “But I will go on a fifth date with you.”

Letting out a relieved breath, Blaine pulled Kurt back in for another hug. “That was so mean.”

“I guess you better get used to it, then.”

Before he could second-guess himself, Kurt gave Blaine a quick peck on the cheek before turning to unlock the door, feeling his face heat with a blush. 

“See you soon?” He glanced back, biting his lip to keep his joy contained.

Blaine ducked his head, smiling wide. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

After waving goodbye Kurt went inside and backed up against the closed door. He giggled - giggled! - to himself, covering his face with his hands. A throat clearing made him look up with a start, to see his dad leaning against the living room entrance with his arms crossed. He was smiling too, his expression entirely too smug for Kurt’s liking.

“So, when’s your next not-date with Blaine?” His dad asked with overly-exaggerated casual innocence.

“Shut up,” Kurt said through his grin, and his dad’s laugh followed him down the stairs to his room where he was not going to dance around in celebration. Definitely not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful for anyone/everyone who has stuck with me and this fic. I really appreciated the comments I got on the last chapter from people who wanted more, so all reviews/comments are appreciated!!


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